


Silver Crowbar

by TheOnlySilverCrowbar



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Blunt Weapons, Censored Swearing (Because Why Not Censor That S''t?), Childish Jeff, Jane Is Technically Not Considered A Proxy, LJ Has His Own Seperate Story Going On In Every Other Chapter, Main Character Is A Bit Of A B'''h, Main Character Is An Original Character, Messing With Your Feelings (Because I'm Evil), Other, Slender Mansion Is Real- But A Little Different Than Usual, Your Suggestions For This Story Are Always Welcome, murder scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 90,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlySilverCrowbar/pseuds/TheOnlySilverCrowbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laureen Pitch was being bullied at school for her bossy attitude towards the other students. The bullies chase her into a supply closet, in which a gruesome scene between them takes place. Laureen runs from the scene and a man offers her shelter from the police in exchange for help in his metal-working. Laureen gets cadmium poisoning from the work, which causes her skin to turn grey. What happens next is unexpected- for both Laureen and her intruder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Event

Laureen wanted to walk away. For the first time in her life, she wanted to just leave even when she had the advantage. Three girls from her school had pushed her against the wall just minutes before, kicking and punching her. She could feel the pain in the back of her head from the wall impact, and she was almost certain she would have a bruise there tomorrow. She had fought back against the girls as best she could, only managing to knock one of the three girls away. In that little time, when the girl crashed into the other, she punched the girl holding her back and ran. With them shouting after her, she knew she wouldn't be able to run much further.

She practically threw herself into the work closet, on the side of the building, shutting the door behind her. She pressed herself against a cold metal shelf as she heard the girls come closer. They pounded at the door, to scare her, and the nob turned. In that moment, Laureen grabbed the thing closest to her and looked at her. A crowbar, which looked like it had been recently cleaned and slightly bent. At that moment, time seemed to slow down. Laureen wanted to disappear before they came into the room.

She had a good idea of what was about to happen, even if she was scared out of her mind. The door was opening, and Laureen could feel herself lifting the crowbar further from the ground. The other girls seemed to flood in, rushing straight for her with smirks on their faces. Without feeling the weight of her weapon, she swung the crowbar in front of her with great force, successfully dug it into the girl's head. The girls skidded to a halt, but Laureen lurched forward and closed the door behind them, her first instinct being to hide what she had done.

Her eyes had always been prone to changing colors, usually when she was lost in emotion, due to her perplexing eye condition. Her eyes turned a dark orange, slowly, nearly red as she let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. As she closed the door, the other girls backed up, surprised and frightened at the sight of their accomplice on the floor, head bleeding. "H-hey, now, Laur-" One of the girls said, but was cut off by the sudden movement of Laureen. It had all gone by so fast, that for her, she could barely register what was happening.

"Be quiet. Don't talk." She said, barely heard under the scream of the girls as she brought the crowbar down once more. She just wanted them to be quiet- that's what she wanted, her eyes fading from her curious orange to a dark gray, a rather alarming change in color, but it went unmentioned. She could still hear their voices, what they said before;

'You don't have a clue, do you?'

'No one likes you, Laury! You're such a b***h! In fact, why don't you just off yourself, do us all a favor?'

'Even your parents can't stand to be around you- that's why you barely see 'em! Not because they're focused on their work!'

'I bet they came up with that excuse just to stay away from a screwed up girl like you!'

'I hope that eye thing blinds you! It'll be funny to watch you stumble around!'

Her eyes narrowed. "Stop talking." She said, even though the voices of the girls had died down a minute ago. It took a few moments of her simply standing there until her eyes widened a bit. Her eyes steadily turned to a very light- nearly tan- yellow, as she stared upon the scene in front of her. All three girls were on the floor, bruised and bleeding, unmoving. Laureen stared in horror as she dropped the crowbar, dropping on her knees to feel one of the girl's pulse. At first, she simply thought she was doing it wrong, and tried again, but she still could not feel the girl's pulse.

She went over to the blonde leader of the group (the one she had hurt last) and felt her neck for a pulse instead, hoping and praying this wasn't real, or at least that they were alive. She felt a slow beating. "Carol?! Carol?! Do you hear me?!" Laureen called to the girl. The girl didn't answer, motionless, as her pulse seemed to go further and further away, until it was eventually gone. Laureen froze, not being able to move. She had just killed three girls with a blunt weapon in the work closet. She realized her clothes had blood splatters on them, which now stained her white polo shirt and khaki skirt. The crowbar was on the ground, covered in drying blood, near the wall.

She realized what would happen when the janitor came to the work closet, and told herself that she needed to leave. With a trembling hand she opened the door, closing it behind her, causing her to notice the blood on the back of her hands. She stood for a moment, just staring at the door, accidentally engraving it into her mind, remembering every detail of the painted teal wood. Then she turned abruptly on her heel and ran. She ran away from her school, as far away as she could, stopping every now and then due to short breath.

She hid from others as best she could, but it was becoming difficult as more people started to swarm the sidewalk. Alarmed, she ran into the forest without thinking, since no people went past the bright yellow police tape that instructed people to stay out. Murders and suicides had occurred in these woods, and there were countless tales of monsters and murderers living there. Laureen ran down the forbidden hiking trail, which was barely visible as it was covered in shrubbery and pine needles.

She stopped running, and just walked down the trail, her heart beating fast and loud, as she tried to calm her breathing. She had just killed. She killed. Killed. Laureen shuddered, following the trail to a camping site. There was a large cabin, the upper story not completely finished, only consisting of a roof and two side walls, leaving the front and back open for all to see. The upper level consisted of a work desk, tools, and papers scattered around. Oddly enough, the cabin did not have a door, but a makeshift pulley elevator that went directly into the top floor.

And there was a man, sitting out front on a lawn chair, carefully carving engraving onto a silver coin. Laureen's first instinct was to run away so he wouldn't see her bloodstained clothing, but it was too late. As she stepped once backwards, a twig snapped loudly and the old man looked up. She could see his features clearly- smile lines and wrinkles around his lower face, and glasses sitting low on his nose. His gray-white hair was long, like that of a hermit, going down to his shoulders, and his beard went down to his collarbone. His mustache reached his upper lip, but was tied sloppily with hair ties away from it on either side.

He looked at the girl with tired eyes, and instantly observed her clothing. His face contorted into disappointment, and he looked Laureen in the eyes. "Now, little girl, how did you get like that?" He asked, voice slightly croaky. Laureen felt her eyes swell up with tears, as the guilt of her crime weighed down on her. Her eyes faded to a dark blue, and she cried softly, wiping her tears on her sleeve. The man stood, walking toward her and patting her head with care. Laureen looked up at him, saddened dark blue eyes staring into warm hazel.

"Come inside. You have a confession to make." The man said, walking over to the impressively made elevator, with Laureen following, not knowing what else to do and seeking comfort. The man waited for Laureen to step inside the wooden elevator, (with no front or back, just two walls and a ceiling to block the rain), before grabbing a rope through the back with both hands, steadily pulling his own and the teenage girl's weight up to the second story, were the pulley locked in place in order for them to safely step out.

Laureen didn't know this man: why would she trust him? Something about his eyes and voice, perhaps. They were both warm, and carried a shimmer of understanding, like he was there for her. The way he didn't fear her or use any caution towards her, maybe? Like it was his job to listen to people's confessions. He was so certain, and spoke kindly. He seemed wise and trustworthy, and very much like a parental figure. It made her feel safe.

The man grunted out a small 'alright' as he pulled up two chairs, sitting down in the one on the right. He signaled for her to sit down, which she hesitantly did. She stared at her bloodied hands in her lap, away from the man's eyes. "What's your name?" He asked. "....Laureen." She replied. "Good to meet you. I'm Malachi. I made this cabin, and I live here. I'm a metal worker, and I make coins." The man named Malachi said, hoping this would help the slightly trembling young girl open up a little. It worked.

"...I live in Hollow Springs. I......I'm the daughter of a lawyer..and a strict legalist..." Laureen said. 'Which is why I can't go home. They've always raised me to avoid crime, I should've known better. They'd be so disappointed in me...maybe even horrified.' She thought solemnly. Malachi sat back. "Do authorities know you by name, then?" He asked. Laureen could hear the irony of her situation in his voice.

"No. I never met anyone my dad worked with..."

"And your mother?"

"...She doesn't know any personally...but she loves the police. Legalist. She's been telling me my whole life not to do...s-something like this."

"...I see. Laureen, will you still go home?"

"...."

The girl went quiet, thinking over the question with steady, grey-blue eyes pinned on her brown lace-less shoes. "Laureen... can you tell me what it is you did?" Malachi asked. The teen stayed quiet for a moment, before hesitantly speaking again. "...I...I killed three classmates...who were beating me up." She replied.

"Self-defense, then? They took it too far?"

"...They hit me, but...honestly, they kind of have reason to. I'm...not the nicest person to people at my school...and my eyes freak out certain people on top of that. I knew how they saw me and why they were doing it, but-...I-I was scared. It's never gone that far. When I ran, they followed me. They were going to start again, I-I could see it. They were coming closer and closer and I just- I panicked and.... " The girl let out a shaky breath.

"...bashed their heads in with a crowbar..." She nearly muttered that last part. Malachi sighed. "Now, that was a bit extreme, don't you think?" He asked. Laureen didn't say a word, and a silence stretched on between her and the man sitting across from her. Neither spoke for another minute, and though the silence wasn't tense or out of place, Laureen felt the urge to speak. "Are you going to call the police? ...I have murdered three people." she said. The man shook his head for a short moment.

"No, I'm not. That wouldn't help right now. It's not like you're going around killing random people...I'm sure whatever they said or did just made you snap. Whether they deserved it or not isn't what I'm concerned about. Though, that doesn't actually justify what you did."

Malachi sat up a bit, "Truth is, I've had someone like you here before. A long time ago. But I got him too late- he was long gone." Laureen's eyes faded into a dark orange as curiosity of the man's old visitor took over. "A boy like me? Too far gone?" She inquired. The man noticed her eyes, and chuckled lightly to himself. "Yes, a young boy who 'snapped' after an incident with bullies. He was badly burned, but the hospital fixed 'im up as best they could. The night he came home from the hospital, he killed his family and ran away, into these woods." Malachi said.

A shiver went up Laureen's spine. "He killed his family?" she asked, her eyes going a light color, Malachi couldn't make it out for a moment until he realized it was a tan, almost yellow color. It boggled him, why this girl's eyes changed so drastically, but he could put that question aside for now. "Right. Though, to be fair, they weren't the best family, from what I gathered. ...I remember he told me they lied to him- told him he was beautiful for carving up his face. In reality, the mother wanted the father to shoot 'im. Their own son. His brother thought he was a monster- didn't even recognize him- and so, he was killed too."

The two sat there for a minute, Laureen thinking over the story as Malachi observed her ever-changing eyes. As she taught more and more deeply, throwing them into another short silence, her eyes went almost completely black, traces of blue and yellow thrown in to distinguish it from her pupil. This had to be the strangest eye color he had seen yet. It nearly made him jump, and he found himself simply unable to look away. "How did he 'carve up' his face?" Laureen asked, getting an idea of what the boy might have been thinking.

"...He had cut a large smile into his face, nearly from ear to ear, and burnt off his eyelids. Said it made him beautiful. Said he always wanted to smile, and always wanted his eyes open to see it." Malachi explained. Laureen shuffled her feet. 'It seems almost unbelievable. That boy...obsessed with his new look...narcissistic and demented. But who would push their limits so far?' She thought. Malachi sighed, a far away look in his eyes. "He's probably still out in the woods somewhere, since there have been murders lately. I do hate that he just does as he pleases...barely stayed here a week with me, and came home splattered in blood one night..." Malachi recalled the scene vividly.

He had been genuinely worried for the boy, but the boy nearly broke down when he told him what he did, how much he had enjoyed it, and what his life decision was, from that point on. Laureen immediately realized why Malachi had been so calm with her. Her situation was not too terribly unlike the boy's situation from however long ago Malachi saw him. She looked straight at Malachi, her eyes swirling with a blue-violet color and orange, a very strange color mix to say the least, and she made a determined face.

"Please sir...let me stay here a while. I promise I won't bother you. You've already done enough just by not turning me in...I...I'd like to try to make up for what I did, but I can't face everyone at home. I can't go back to Hollow Springs right now." She said, bowing her head in respect for the man in front of her. Malachi blinked and then chuckled slightly. "No need to be so formal about it. Of course, you can stay here. On one condition." He replied. Laureen lifted her head, eyes looking at Malachi intensely, a mixture of pink and orange swirling within them in an unintentionally entrancing way.

"You'll help me with my metal-working and coins. I need an assistant- I'm getting old, after all." He said. Laureen smiled a small smile. "Thank you, Malachi. I hope you won't be too put off with me here." She said. Malachi stood, chuckling. "Oh, I assure you I've seen worse. The boy nearly killed me the first time he met me years ago." Malachi said. Laureen was going to speak about that subject, but Malachi started talking again. "Well!" He clapped his hands together, "First things first: you need some new clothes, including some work clothes. I suppose I'll have to go get some for you." Malachi grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in his back pocket.

"Oh, no- don't spend money on my clothes! I have plenty at home! I could...just..." She went silent as Malachi gave her a sarcastic 'really?' look. "Well, you can't go in like that, can you?" He asked. Laureen smiled. "No one's at my home, don't worry. I can-" Malachi cut Laureen off. "Not in that, you won't. And the school will be looking for the first student that disappeared after they find you're lil' scene." He said. Laureen didn't talk back, realizing Malachi had a good point.

"...Still, that may be a better plan, if we don't want to spend anything. Here, write down your address and I'll pick up your clothes." He said, giving Laureen the blank back of a newspaper section and a pen. Laureen complied with him, writing down her address as he grabbed a large, blue, empty duffel bag to put her clothes in. "Thank you for doing this." Laureen said, handing Malachi the paper with a tint of cautious yellow in her eyes. After all, she had just met him, and wasn't entirely trusting of him.

What if this was an accuse to steal all her things and take off? Or claim her house as his own? This didn't actually bother Laureen as much as she thought it would. If he did do that, she got this great cabin all to herself, out of the police's reach and away from the family she never saw and disgusted glares at school. Now that she thought about it, the police would definitely find her finger prints on the crowbar.

"Not a problem," Malachi said, heading towards the make-shift elevator. "Stay inside and help yourself to whatever you want. Be careful on the stairs." His voice was gentle and warm, and made Laureen think of a grandfather talking to his beloved grandchild. Not that she'd ever known her grandfather. "Alright. I will. Thanks again." Laureen said. Malachi slowly let himself down via pulley system, and walked off with the duffel bag over his shoulder. As soon as he walked off, Laureen stood slowly to explore the downstairs area.

She went down the stairs, noticing the railing had been ripped out in one spot. She cautiously avoided it, her eyes still pink and orange as she finished going down the stairs. The front door would've been there if there was one. Laureen turned, and she was met with a living room. A grey, 3-seater couch sat across from a large box t.v, a small brown coffee table separating them. The wooden floor creaked slightly as she walked past the living area to the small kitchen connected to it.

Four white counters were against the wall, along with a white fridge and a stove in between the third and fourth counter. On the fourth was a microwave and a small toaster, and the second held a sink with a few unwashed dishes residing in it. She walked past the living area the other way, coming to face two doors a good bit apart from each other. The one closest to the wall was a bathroom, with a stand-in shower, a toilet, and a sink on one single counter, which was standing on four legs.

A soup bar, toothpaste, and a white toothbrush lied to the side of the sink on the counter. There was a white rimmed mirror that she didn't dare look into. She closed the door, heading to the other. It was a room with a single bed, with green sheets and a dark green comforter. A few newspapers and drawings of trees or lakes were pinned to the wall. The bed was messy and badly made, and a writing desk with a computer sat in the corner of the room. A shelf a little ways away from the bed held stacks of clothing, and a fuzzy, faded, green rug rested in the middle of the room.

She shut the door, knowing that the room was Malachi's. She was going to sit down on the couch, but remembered her bloody clothing and didn't want to risk ruining it, so instead went back upstairs to sit in the wooden chair. Taking in her surroundings more as she went, she realized all the walls were the same color: a dark purple, nearly gray, and set an oddly nice tone to the wooden floors. Laureen came up to the second floor, looking around a bit more than she had from the chair. The work desk was covered in screwdrivers, coin carving tools, and three wrenches, with a lamp above the main work section, currently unlit.

The desk was wooden, and scratched in many places. Other than the papers everywhere, there were also scraps of metal, weak enough to bend with a finger. There was a pillow against the wall, for whatever reason, and two back packs that sat unused against the wall. On the one side wall was a glass case full of beautifully etched out coins, from Chinese to American; coins of all kinds. Some of them couldn't even qualify as coins, just slabs of metal with breathtaking designs on them. They were so delicately designed, Laureen wondered how the person who made it managed to engrave it.

She sat down, staring at the newspaper clippings up on the other wall. She thought about what she did, clenching her fists and narrowing her eyes at her slightly bloodied shoes. Never in her life did she think she'd actually kill someone, especially since she was usually the one helping to catch the murderers rather than assist them. Though, this was hardly assisting anyone. She felt her phone in her skirt pocket vibrate, and debated on weather or not she should answer it. Hesitantly, pulled out her small, old i-phone to see she had received a text. It was from her mother.

'Honey, are you alright?!' It read. Before Laureen could even contemplate texting her mother back, she received another text from her. 'There's been a murder at your school! 3 girls...please tell me if you're ok!' It read. Laureen sighed. What if the police traced the text to the place she was? She had to let her mother know she was alright, or else the police would be on the look for her. 'I'm alright. I'm home sick. I woke up with a cold today.' Laureen texted back. After a few seconds, she got a reply. 'Thank God. You scared me!' It said.

Laureen chuckled at the thought of what she would text her mother if it were the truth. Yeah, I already know about the murders because I bashed their heads in with some crowbar I found! And I shut the door on them so they wouldn't get out. Don't worry, I'm fine, just a little bloody! Haha...no. God, that sounded terrible. 'Well, I'm alright, so I'll be going back to bed now.' Laureen texted back. She waited a bit. Her phone chimed with a text alert. 'Ok, honey. I'll talk to you later! Stay safe!' It read. 'I will.' She texted back, then slipped the phone back in her pocket.

As she glared at the wall in front of her for a moment, the immense guilt of killing the three girls came rushing back to her. Her eyes began turning a dark blue as she closed them tightly, trying not to picture the gruesome scene she left behind. She felt like crying, but forced herself not to out of false pride she no longer had to carry. Her eyes stayed closed however, as she realized she was unwilling to open them. Before she knew it, she had slipped into a dreamless sleep.


	2. The Time Spent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the time spent between Malachi and Laureen during all this. Don't worry if you don't like this kind of thing, it doesn't last for too long, but it does have some useful information, so I'd suggest not skipping over it just in case. :-)

Malachi returned by about 7:40, when it was getting dark out, with the duffel bag thrown over his broad shoulder. He had practically shoved all Laureen's clothes into the bag, and a few things he thought might be the most valuable to her, including her tooth brush and hair brush. He also took a notebook he thought might be important to her, with some research that looked like it had been collected for about a month or so. When Malachi reached the top floor, via elevator, he found Laureen passed out cold on the wooden chair, lightly snoring.

Her arm was dangling off the side, nearly touching the floor, and her head was turned and leaning on her right shoulder. Malachi sighed, smiling a small smile. This girl reminded him very much of Jeffery Woods, the boy who found him here nearly a decade ago. He was a bit ruder, though, even if he was kind to Malachi after about three days. At first, Jeffery tried to kill him for seeing him, until Malachi told him it was alright, that it was over. After all, the boy looked traumatized, and absolutely insane.

He told the boy he was safe here, that he was ok, and that he didn't need to hurt anyone. He watched the boy's eyes water, but later learned that Jeffery never allowed himself to cry. Malachi sighed at the memory. He knew what Jeffery must be doing now. He put the duffel bag down by Laureen's hand, and shook her lightly. Laureen's eyes opened groggily, her eyes a deep purple, having changed to this tired color long ago. "I got your clothes. You should get dressed in something clean." Malachi said to the half-awake girl.

Laureen yawned a bit, and nodded, just barely making out what the man said. She stood up. Malachi gave her the bag, observing her pink, purple, and dark blue eyes. 'I need a color chart for those or something.' He thought. "Thank you." Laureen said, offering a small but genuine smile. Malachi smiled back. "Go wash up. I'll make something to eat, you must be hungry." he said. Laureen's face twisted in disgust. "No...I don't think I can eat tonight, but thank you for the offer." Laureen said, heading towards the stairs to go change in the bathroom.

As soon as she was out of sight, Malachi sighed. "Twice now...I've sheltered a murderer." He muttered, rubbing his tired eyes and adjusting his glasses. Laureen changed in the bathroom, and came out in a pair of comfortable pajama pants and a fuzzy long sleeved pajama shirt, both a dark green. She had washed the blood away from her skin, and threw her uniform in the trash. She took a minute to think about the situation she was in, which had changed her life so fast. Because she couldn't control herself.

Her dark blue and purple eyes lowered to the couch, which now had the black pillow from upstairs and a tan and blue striped comforter lying on it. She smiled at the blanket and pillow, knowing Malachi must have made this makeshift bed for her. She laid on the couch, pulling the comforter over her and snuggling into the pillow.

*The next day*

The next morning Laureen awoke to the smell of something metallic. She slowly sat up, swinging her legs onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she stood and walked to the stairs, the metallic smell getting so strong she could taste it in the back of her tongue. She walked up the stairs to see Malachi leaned over his desk, melting some sort of metal into a strong mold. "Morning." She said lightly, Walking behind Malachi to see what he was doing. "Mor...ning..." He said, concentrating on pouring the liquid metal into the mold of a small wide cylinder on his desk.

Laureen watched this with curious orange eyes, with traces of purple still around the sides of her irises. The metal filled the mold easily, and Malachi moved it cautiously to the side, filling two more molds until the container of melted metal ran out. He sighed in relief, taking off his work gloves and setting them on the table. "What is that?" Laureen asked, eyes fully orange now. Malachi smiled. "It's the holding part of a seal. It's like a stamp; I still have to add the rubber seal to the bottom." He said, standing and heading down the stairs. Laureen followed suit, talking as she walked.

"You make fancy seals? What for?" She asked. "Costumers! Believe it or not, I have a small service. I'm mailing these out today, actually." Malachi replied, going straight to the kitchen and crouching to the cabinet below the sink. "I had no idea..." Laureen said, leaning against the wall where the door would have been if there was one. "Then why do you live out here?" She asked as Malachi pulled out a box of cheerios and a bowl. "It's peaceful... or at least, it was until the murders and suicides started. Police didn't even bother to check if any campers where out here, just closed it off." Malachi said, grabbing the milk from the fridge and pouring it into his cereal.

"Want a bowl?" He asked, to which Laureen simply shook her head, so Malachi put the ingredients away. Grabbing a spoon, he sat down at a small circular table Laureen hadn't noticed until now. The table only had one chair at it, but Laureen could see the rest of the set by the wall; three brown wooden chairs with dark drown leather on the seat and back rest. She hesitantly pulled one over to the table and sat down. Malachi was instantly reminded of Jeffery, who used to sit across from him like this, after opening up a bit. He smiled at the memory, taking a spoonful of cereal.

"...I meant to ask you, why is it you have so many newspapers? Some of the headings seem disturbing." Laureen said, calmly, watching Malachi dip his spoon into his bowl again. "It's nothing really, just keeping track of the murders happening around my area." Malachi replied. It was technically the truth, but half of those papers where really to see if Jeffery was still killing people, and how he killed. "That makes sense. I suppose you don't exactly want to be killed, huh?" Laureen said, smiling a bit. Malachi smiled back, chuckling a bit.

After breakfast, he showed Laureen how to melt the metals upstairs. It took some practice, but she eventually got just the right temperature on a mini fire-stove that Malachi pulled out from under his desk. He gave Laureen a pair of gloves that were a bit to big for her to protect her from the heat of the metal in the container. Laureen, with a bit of help, pulled the heavy bucket onto the desk. Malachi filled two molds, and told Laureen to do the last. Laureen held the tin, much lighter than before, unable to stop her hands from shaking as she poured it into the mold, getting some on the table.

"Crud! Oh, sorry." She said, putting the container down. Malachi laughed. "Don't worry, I've done it too." He said, looking at the mold Laureen filled and topping it off with the rest of the melted metal. Setting the molds aside to dry with the others, he put a small table fan over them and set it to the highest setting. Pulling off his gloves, he set them on the table and thanked Laureen for helping. "I didn't do much." Laureen said sheepishly, pulling off her gloves and putting them on top of Malachi's. "Nonsense, you did plenty. Practice makes perfect!" Malachi said.

Laureen smiled and nodded, her eyes a light blue. Malachi observed this, and decided to finally ask about it. "Your eyes change color rather often... and I must say I've never seen orange, pink, or purple eyes." Malachi said. Laureen looked down to the ground, smiling slightly. This question had been asked many times, and she was used to answering it. She mentally prepared her lines. "It's just an eye condition I was born with. The nerves in my eyes can come loose at any time. My emotions effect the shade of my eyes and sometimes my pupils, it just looks like colors because that's how our color preceptors work." Laureen said.

Malachi nodded slowly, thinking over her words. He realized something. "Then, Laureen, are you color blind?" He asked. "Yeah, I am kind of color blind. Not too much, but some colors look different too me." She answered. Malachi nodded again. He smiled. "You know, my mother used to tell me you can tell a lot about a person by their eyes. I must say, you have the most interesting eyes I've ever seen." He said. Laureen smiled at him, saying nothing, but her eyes slightly swirling with a happy pink. Malachi was then reminded of Jeffery.

Malachi had asked the boy what he did to his eyes, and Jeffery simply replied with a smile that reflected his insanity so well it gave Malachi shivers. Malachi shook the thought away, and walked towards the stairs. "Laureen, let me tell you something." He said, leaning on the rail he knew wouldn't break further, at the top of the stairs. Laureen looked at him, waiting for whatever he had in mind. "You should know that by being here, you are putting your life in danger. The cops weren't lying when they said it was dangerous." He said. "I know." Laureen replied, rather quickly, holding her hands together.

"...My house isn't exactly the safest place in the world, and I'll have to leave at times for my little company. Now, it won't be more than two days, but it's still time for something bad to happen. Who knows how many murderers there are out there, and the window down stairs can still be broken even with the locks on it." Malachi explained. Laureen felt as though he was hinting to something. "Alright. What is it you're getting at?" Laureen asked. Malachi looked at her for a few seconds before Laureen suddenly understood.

"You have to leave soon, don't you?" She asked. Malachi sighed. "I'll be leaving in two days from now. I just want to make sure you know what to do. I'm sure you can defend yourself to a certain degree, but who knows how long these people have been killing? They are better at it, is what I'm saying." He said, shamelessly pointing out that Laureen was still, in fact, a killer. Laureen shuffled her hands uncomfortably for a minute, then let out a breath and looked up at Malachi again. "Alright. What is it I need to do then?" She asked.

"Bolt the window, and cover it with the wood in my room. Pull the elevator up to the top floor and leave it there, get everything inside, and don't stay upstairs for too long at night. Never leave the lamp upstairs on, either." Malachi said, as if he had run those words through his head a thousand times before. Laureen nodded, understanding that serious precautions needed to be taken if she was going to be safe here. Was it really worth it? Being around killers in order to keep herself out of jail? She had more risk of dying out here, after all. Being in jail was a less than pleasant option, and she wouldn't get nearly as much as she would here, but at least she would be safe from being murdered.

Malachi nodded back to her, smiling. "Good. I'll show you how to make sure the elevator is locked in place later on. Right now, I need to print out some papers for my costumer's orders." He said, turning and walking down the stairs. Laureen hummed slightly to show that she heard him, and sat down in the wooden chair at Malachi's desk. She contemplated just leaving, so she wouldn't cause this man trouble if she happened to lead a murderer into the home. Even if she did so when he wasn't home, she fairly certain he wouldn't appreciate having to clean her blood and guts off the floor.

Sighing, she thought about the disappointment that would stain her mother's face if she ever found out the truth. What if she got caught? Or maybe she should just turn herself in and save the trouble. I mean, they would undoubtedly find her fingerprints on the recently cleaned metal in the work closet at school. Her mother would find out soon enough, any way, so why keep it from her? Maybe she would think a little better of her for confessing to her instead of waiting until she had police knocking at her door. Laureen couldn't imagine confessing to her mother, and didn't know how she would bring herself to if it came to that.

It was the better choice, but Laureen wasn't really the best person around. She had her manners, sure, but in reality she was really only polite to people she truly respected. It was true that she was a little bossy and prideful, she knew this, but it was usually quite justified in her mind. There were plenty of people she didn't act that way towards as well, like her friends. She only had a small group, and two were even younger than herself, but they knew her better than any other classmates. They supported her, and were at times the only reason she ever faced the day at all.

Laureen smiled at the memory of her small school family, but it faded as quickly as it came. Would she ever see them again? No, she wouldn't, obviously. If she did try to, there was no guarantee she wouldn't be caught. They must already suspect her as the one who murdered those three girls, given the tension between them and her own group. Her friends must have noticed her disappearance as well. Maybe they would be questioned by police. No, they definitely would be when they confirmed the fingerprints on that crowbar.

She sighed, deciding not to worry about it at the moment. For now, she was safe from everyone she knew, and didn't have to think about them. She thought about what the boy Malachi described must look like, as a distraction, but could hardly picture anything. Why is it Malachi sheltered him, anyway? For Laureen, he had a reason; she reminded him of the boy. But why take in an insane, disturbed little teenager who had just killed his family with a wide smile and lidless eyes. Laureen couldn't keep her eyes open for any more than 30 seconds, so she couldn't imagine just how much the boy's eyes hurt.

The thought made her blink a little more than usual. She wondered just how the boy would've actually built up the nerve to harm himself so badly even while being narcissistic. She didn't want to think about having a person like that around the house, but he had lived with Malachi at some point. He undoubtedly knew how to get in and may come to Malachi for help if he needs it. Most likely for food or something rather than his killing, but the thought was more than enough for Laureen to be more cautious here.

Before long Laureen realized, truly now, just how different her life was going to be from now on. The impact of her decisions crashed down on her, and she watched them all play out in her mind. What she could have done differently, how she could have avoided all this. How lucky she was that she was not already caught. And if she actually deserved that luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh, things seem a bit too homey in here. Hmm....


	3. Engraved Coins (2 Years Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more stuff around the house, of course...nothing more....yeah, nothing more....

Laureen's birthday was today.

Two years ago, she had run from her crime scene and found Malachi here in the woods. She hadn't intended to stay there for so long, but the weeks melted into months and she still wasn't comfortable enough to go back. Living with Malachi was pleasant and simple, like living on a peaceful mountain home. Along with the isolation from other teens came a certain content way of living, with no need for her pride or regular stress. It seemed everything she had deemed so important before had lost it's value, and along with it, Laureen's care.

Up in a tree near the house, she sat with her legs on either side of the branch. She used to not be able to get up that high, but two years of pulling her weight up on the elevator, lifting metal, and handling tools had greatly improved her strength. Especially the metal press Malachi owned, with how much force had to be applied to it, and how heavy literal containers of metal could be. However...Malachi's metals were more dangerous than she had the caution for. She looked down at her gray hands and arms, and shoe-less grey feet. Cadmium poisoning.

Her incident four months ago with some metals Malachi had brought home left her skin and the wights of her eyes gray, even when Malachi stole medical treatment for her, she had been left permanently grayed. She doubted her mother would even recognize her now- her hair grew to her hips and was messy and uncared for, with snarls and knots that went unnoticed. She was skinnier, having eaten less ever since her murder incident, and Malachi could only afford two meals a day for each of them. So they ate once between breakfast and lunch time, then ate dinner later on that night.

Laureen swung her feet absentmindedly, looking down at her clothes. Knee-length purple shorts and a plain blue, short-sleeved t-shirt. Malachi got these clothes for her a month ago, but she kept growing out of the shoes that Malachi bought her, so she eventually stopped wearing them so he wouldn't have to buy her any more. As she watched her feet swing, she thought about everything that happened to the people around her after she left school. Of course, the police found her fingerprints at the murder scene and contacted Laureen's mother about it. After that, her mother texted and called her non-stop, asking her why she did it, then demanding to talk about it.

After a while, she started begging Laureen to turn herself in, or come talk to her before hand. Laureen never replied to her in those cases. Her mother was away at work most of her life; she couldn't be blamed for not having a real connection to her, even if she texted her a lot in the past. She barely even glanced at her phone any more besides the occasional bored moment; she enjoyed the woods and the plants in it, the trees, and the cool breeze she felt when she climbed them. Before then, she had never been as in touch with nature as she was now, and ended up looking forward to the warmth of the sun and the shapes clouds made.

When she wasn't outside, she was working with Malachi on stamps. She wasn't allowed to do the coating for them anymore, after she was poisoned, so she'd been doing more engraving lately. Right now, she was just relaxing, feeling the cool breeze blow her hair to the side, and the leaves on the trees rustling. She saw a rabbit a little ways away, and could almost hear it scream. She killed rabbits with Malachi for food, occasionally, and their screams were no less then terrifying, even for an animal. Not only that, but the cooking process for those things took so much effort.

She thought about her mother, how worried she must be, but Laureen had taken pity on her a few times in the past and texted her back, letting her know she was alive, telling her she wouldn't be coming home for a long time, and responding to the 'Happy Birthday' message a year ago. Her mother still barely ever came home, because of her work, but said she'd take time off for Laureen. 'For my court case.' Laureen had thought, knowing her mother honored justice and the law. She knew her mother would turn her in, later telling her it was for the best.

Laureen still texted her back at times, but much less often than she used to, when she was a student getting bullied and living alone. The memory of her murdering the girls was less disturbing then it had been years ago, and she didn't loose her appetite thinking about it. She thought more and more often now about the boy, that Malachi talked about constantly through out the years. He described to her that he had long black hair and deep blue eyes. Unblinking eyes. He apparently had very pale skin, almost ghostly, that almost made him appear sickly.

She wondered if she looked about the same now; though he would definitely be a decade older. Jeffery Woods, was his name. How ironic It must have been for him to find a safe shelter in the woods. As much as she wondered about this boy, Jeffery, she definitely did not want to run into him. In the various newspapers scattered around the house, she had seen articles about the now fairly famous serial killer and the horrifying ways he killed.

Many people moved away from the area, but then the murders started happening elsewhere, with Jeffery's signature smile engraved on the victim's faces. He had earned the title 'Jeff the Killer' by the newspaper that found out his old identity, a bullied school boy who was badly burned at a birthday party across from his own home. "Laureen!" Malachi's voice rang out from the top floor, and Laureen looked at him from her place in the tree.

"Lunch is ready!" Malachi called out again, watching afterwards as the gray-skinned teen hopped from branch to branch with practiced ease, until she was down on the ground. Malachi walked back down the stairs as he heard Laureen step into the elevator, and walked over to the circular table that now had two plates of pasta on it. Laureen came practically flying down the stairs soon enough, her eyes catching sight of her favorite pasta. She sat down with a smile on her face, thanked Malachi for the meal, and dug in. Malachi chuckled lightly as he started on his own food.

Laureen felt like a daughter to him by now, and he cared for her as one. Of course, he felt responsible for her being poisoned, and felt a twinge of guilt every time he saw Laureen's discolored skin.Her beautiful eyes had been effected as well, barely any white existing in them any more. After they ate, Malachi told Laureen to sit on the couch and wait. She did as she was told, wondering why Malachi went to his room. She waited there for all of 40 seconds, before Malachi came back into sight, a big box wrapped in the same purple paper from her last birthday. Her eyes brightened with a happy pink as Malachi brought her the birthday present. He smiled.

"Happy birthday!" Malachi said as he set the present down on her lap. "Thank you!" Laureen replied, and started tearing the paper off of the box. Inside the box where a bunch of smaller presents, all wrapped in the purple wrapping paper. She smiled, taking the top one and pulling the paper off of it. It was the book she had wanted to read for a while now, A Wrinkle in Time. Her eyes lit up. "Woah! Thanks, Malachi!" She said, inspecting the pages of the book. Malachi smiled, sitting down beside her. "Don't thank me yet! Go on, open the others!" he said.

"You really went all out, didn't you? I'll have to get you something even better for your birthday!" Laureen said, ripping the paper off of the second gift. It was pretty big, and Laureen had a feeling she knew what it was. And it was! A shoebox, with a picture of the purple and black sneakers she wanted, in her size. She smiled at Malachi. "You found them in my size!" She said. Malachi chuckled, and motioned for her to open the next present. Laureen looked into the box to see two more presents, and went for the larger one first.

It ended up being a few different plastic bags full of clothes in her fashion, including a jacket to protect her from the cold upstairs and outside. There was a pretty purple dress that looked like a sundress, going down to just above her ankles and appearing to be flowing and easy to run around in. There were a few pairs of pants, different colored shirts, and a new hair brush with a purple rim. Just looking at these, it wouldn't be hard to guess what her favorite color is. Finally, she got to the last present. It was small, very small, and layered in wrapping paper.

She opened it, and her eyes once again lit up as the cold metal met her fingers. A ring, engraved with sharp, twirling designs, shaped perfectly to her finger size. She recognized the handy work as Malachi's, and nearly gasped at the detailed engraving. Malachi's work had always impressed her, but she could tell he worked very hard on this. She smiled up at Malachi, enveloping him in a hug. Malachi laughed, returning the hug. Laureen let go and slipped the ring onto her pointer finger. "It's beautiful! Thank you, Malachi! How long did this take you?" She said, admiring the engraving.

"Oh, just a few days. I'm glad you like it." Malachi replied, smiling at the happiness of his 'daughter'. He often wished Laureen had actually been his daughter, so he could have watched her grow and raised her, and hopefully kept her from bloodying her hands. Malachi always pushed himself to work harder around Laureen's birthday, so he could afford to buy her some nice things. He had nearly pleaded for more work, suggesting different new seals to costumers, customized metal jewelry and coins, along with their choice of coating. He just barely made enough to buy her the gifts, and didn't have enough left for a cake, so he bought some birthday cake ice cream instead.

He grabbed some hair ties on the coffee table in front of him (where he usually left them) and tied his mustache to either side in his own silly way as he spoke. "Well, don't forget the other thing! It's in the freezer." He said, chuckling as Laureen bolted into the kitchen. He heard her laugh as she spotted the cake-flavored ice cream, which in turn made him laugh as he walked into the kitchen, getting a pair of bowls and spoons as Laureen sat down with the ice cream. She waited to open it until Malachi sat down, mentally noting that the top was not wrapped in plastic as ice cream is when bought, which meant it had been opened before.

Curious, she opened the top, to see the words 'Happy Birthday' written in chocolate syrup over the top of the ice cream. She giggled slightly, Malachi putting a bowl and spoon in front of her. She thanked him as he scooped three scoops of ice cream into her bowl, two of which with the 'Hap' and the 'py' still somewhat present. She smiled as she ate, unable to keep the smile away. The rest of the day was spent talking with Malachi, watching t.v, and Laureen being taught how to engrave a coin like Malachi did.

She was still rather sloppy at it compared to Malachi, but was slowly getting better at it. The metal used to make the coin, however, never came out straight and had bumps in it that had to be cleared away. To make a blank coin, you had to put it in a metal press and push down really hard to the left, right, then straight down. Laureen thought it took a ridiculous amount of strength; even now it required all her might just to clear one coin. Of course, she wore gloves as she worked, so the small scraps of metal wouldn't get stuck in her skin like a splinter.

It had happened to Malachi a few times before, and with him being overly cautious after the poisoning, she had to wear gloves while she worked- no matter what she was doing. As she engraved into another coin, she decided to start having a trademark. Some sort of design she had on all her coins. She thought for a minute, looking into the bright, shiny metal in her hand and halting her tiny engraving tool. Then she thought of the metal on that crowbar she used, just that once. The shiny, clean metal. She surprised herself at the thought, having moved past that incident a long time ago....by which she meant last year.

Hesitantly, remembering the feel of the old crowbar in her hand, she drew out a small representation of one. She stared at it. It was definitely a crowbar, anyone could plainly see that, but it looked more like a business logo than a drawing. She was happy with it none the less, as the engraving came out rather nicely. Other than that, the crowbar made her feel oddly happy, even though it brought back memories she would have rather erased from her mind long ago. Malachi noticed her attitude, and that she had finally stopped restarting on her coins.

He smiled. "Finally did something you like?" He asked, adjusting his glasses. "...No, it's nothing..." she replied, stuffing the coin in her pocket and moving to press another one blank. She had a feeling she shouldn't tell Malachi about this, especially when he was proud of her for moving on. Taking lives was a big thing, and Laureen felt a bit guilty for having moved past it so easily. She grunted as she pressed another blank coin, and returned to her seat a little ways away from Malachi, to his right, were the machine was.

But even as she attempted to think of something else to etch into the coin, the crowbar popped into her mind again, and she couldn't think of anything else. She engraved another crowbar into this coin, slipping it into her pocket and picking up on of her scraped coins, throwing it down to make a sound, as if she had thrown away the one she just made. This pattern continued on until she didn't feel like engraving any more, and by then she had made about 20 coins. "I think I'm done for today, Malachi." She said, hands in her pockets to keep the coins from making a sound.

"Alright. Did you get one you liked?" Malachi asked, looking away from his engraving of a lighthouse to look over to Laureen. "...kind of. I just need to perfect it, is all." She said, moving past Malachi and to the stairs. "You'll get it eventually, Laureen. Don't worry. What about those other designs you started doing? Those were nice." He said, referring to the coins she started making last year with starry skies on them. "It took to long to make. I barely got anything else done." Laureen replied. She started walking down the stairs, getting to the second stair before Malachi called out to her.

"Laureen, I'll be leaving for a few deliveries tomorrow. Make sure you lock up everything, ok?" He said, turning back to his engraving. "I will!" Laureen replied, stepping down the rest of the stairs, cautiously, as to muffle the clacking of the coins. As soon as she got to her couch (she had officially considered it her own over a year ago), she grabbed an old shirt that didn't fit her anymore and some scissors. Thinking fast, for no real reason, she measured the coin against the old navy blue fabric. She then cut all the way down the shirt, making a long rectangle around the coin.

Spilling her coins onto the couch, she rolled each one into the fabric, so they were all on different levels in between it. That way, they didn't make any noise. Her 20 coins filled up the fabric easily, with room for two more still open. She put the fabric (which looked like a tiny square now) under the couch cushion, pulling it back into place afterwards. Satisfied, she went to go grab the wood from Malachi's room to board up the window in advance. The tools didn't seem nearly as heavy as they once had, two years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more excitement in the next chapter, I promise! ;-P


	4. Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only so many people who know how to use that elevator....

Malachi left yesterday, and there Laureen was, sitting on the top floor with the lamp off and elevator up. It was dark out, and she was risking her life up here, but she doubted any killer would be eager enough to climb two stories worth of logs. Staring up at the sky, Laureen admired the stars. God, she loved stargazing. She couldn't see them from the window downstairs, since it was boarded up while Malachi was gone. Even upstairs at this hour, she felt safe in the shadow that the wall against her back casted.

She felt calm, and content, her eyes a crystal light blue as she gazed upon the never ending sky. Her sight caught a falling star, and she smiled softly. She knew wishing on falling stars was foolish, even her mother had told her that. Laureen thought about that time, when her mother and herself were in the back room, were the telescope was. What age was she then? Maybe 7? She hadn't been stargazing in a while, and being up here at night reminded her just how much she loved it. She remembered her mothers words that night, and what she said in return.

"Are you wishing on stars, silly?" she had said, sitting on the ground beside the 7 year old Laureen, looking out the opened window with a telescope. "Ms. Junus told us if you wish on a falling star, it'll come true!" She had said, looking at her mother with happy pink eyes, mixed with the white around her pupil from her fascination of astronomy. "That's just a silly rumor. Why would you wish on something falling? Find a star of your own, a young star, and wish on that instead." Her mother suggested. "Will my wish come true?" Laureen had asked. "Maybe. But a wish only does half the work, Laureen. You have to put in your share of the deal." Mother had said.

Laureen sighed at the memory. She wondered if she was ever going to see her mother again. Not that they had a very good connection any more, her mother goes away for so long she forgets what her daughter looks like. She could remember her changing eyes and the color of her hair, but not her skin tone or how her hair was parted. She didn't know how tall she was, what her interests were, or if she actually liked the school she went to. 'But it doesn't matter now' Laureen reminded herself. Her mother would turn her in if she saw her again, her past husband being a lawyer and valuing the law. This left a stain on her heart, respecting and honoring the law before anything.

Laureen frowned at that thought. The lawyer, her father, left her and her mother a few years after she was born. How her mother managed to etch that part of him so roughly into her personality was beyond her, as she knew they weren't too happy together. She forced the thoughts of her mother out of her mind, as she stared up at the beautiful stars and tried to think nothing. It was a failed attempt, as her mind trailed off once again. She thought about the crowbar she had been obsessed with engraving into those coins. Why she thought of such a design at that moment she had no idea, but she knew it felt great engraving it into that coin.

She knew Malachi would be disappointed in her for such a thing, especially since it took her days just to start eating again, Malachi practically dragging her over to the kitchen table when she said she was a little hungry. Thank God she didn't have that problem now. She felt a cool breeze past by behind her, because of the absence of a wall, but she was prepared for that, sitting in her slightly over sized purple and blue jacket Malachi got her for her birthday a few days ago. As she thought about Malachi, she remembered a certain crowbar in his room.

It was old, but Malachi hadn't wanted her seeing it, so she told her she didn't have to lay eyes on it ever again and stashed it away in his room. She had never contemplated looking for it, as it would be very unexpected of her. She stood up, half out of the shadows, her feet carrying her away from her spot on the floor. She walked down the stairs, heading straight to Malachi's room to find the crowbar. She knew she'd have to return it as soon as possible, and of course she wouldn't keep it for to long. It wasn't hard to find, stashed away under his bed, collecting dust.

She pulled it out, watching as dust fell from it. The feel of the crowbar in her hand already made her feel powerful, and safer by herself. Maybe she would be able to keep this with her every time Malachi left? It did make her feel like she could protect herself, and gave her a sense of confidence she wouldn't have otherwise. She felt a little guilty for stealing from Malachi, and then remembered the incident two years ago. Unlike before, when it made her heartsick, it gave her adrenaline. If she could take on three girls a year older than herself, what would one measly intruder be like?

She shook her head, ignoring the adrenaline now coursing through her veins. No, she shouldn't be thinking that way. She didn't want to kill people, and definitely didn't want Malachi to see the after math of it. He was already quite obviously heartsick over Jeffery, and he was only there a week or so. What would happen if the girl he had lived with for two years decided to start up killing? None the less, she took the crowbar with her, partially ignoring her conscious. It's not like she was going to kill anybody with it. It just made her feel better to have it with her. Yeah, that's right. She'd put it back in the morning, no harm done. She then heard something.

It sounded like.... the pulley system for the elevator. She clutched the crowbar close to her, feeling her blood run cold. She took a moment to calm herself, moving cautiously as she exited the room slowly. That's impossible, she couldn't have heard that. The elevator was locked at the top floor, and the only person who knew how to get it down that way was Malachi and herself. She heard footsteps over her, on the ceiling, and without thinking nearly flung herself behind the couch. 'There's someone here! In the house!' She thought, trying to calm her breathing.

She heard creaking coming from the stairs, accompanied with foot steps seconds later. From her position, hiding behind the side of the couch, she could easily poke her head out and watch her intruder step into the room, but she wasn't about to do that. 'It must be Malachi! Home early! After he sees me, we'll just laugh about this! It'll be the time I thought someone actually broke in! Haha!' She thought, but made no effort to move as she heard the footsteps hit the floor. "You here old man?" a voice rang out, just above normal volume.

Laureen's eyes widened. That was definitely not Malachi's voice. The voice was younger, but a bit hoarse, almost like that of a smoker. It was a boy's voice, who sounded around her age. As the footsteps drew closer, she slowly moved to the back of the couch as the stranger inspected the window. "Boarded? Great." He said, grunting in aggravation as he sat on the couch. Laureen heard this and saw the middle of the couch sink as he sat down. It was an opportunity.

'I have a weapon, I can do this, this guy broke in, breaking and entering is a real crime and I can plead for self defense even though I don't need to do that anymore- calm down! I can get this guy, I could kill him if I wanted to, I've killed three girls- but not girls that might be a vicious murderer from the woods! It's okay, it's okay, I can do this. But I've got to move now while I have the upper hand. Come on, then. Move!' Laureen thought. Slowly, she stood up to see the back of a white hood. She quickly hooked her crowbar around, holding it in front of the strangers face.

"Make one move and this goes to your neck." She said, trying to keep the nervousness from appearing in her voice. The intruder noticeably stiffened, surprised that anyone had been here in the first place, and now they were threatening him. Laureen knew plunging the head of the crowbar into his neck would be incredibly painful for him, and even if she missed her target on the windpipe, he would bleed out. The intruder laughed slightly, raising his hands only enough to bend his elbows in a surrender.

"Good. N-now, what are you doing here?" She asked, mentally cursing herself for stuttering. The intruder shrugged halfheartedly. "What about it? Doesn't matter, you caught me, after all. So what now?" The stranger asked, surprisingly calm and smug-sounding. He obviously wasn't worried. Laureen was taken back, but brought the crowbar forward a bit, as if she was going to tear out his throat.

"Now, you tell me what connection you have to the 'old man' that lives here." Laureen replied, trying to steady her hand that was shaking a bit from fear and anticipation. The stranger observed this. "You're shaking. Are you scared?" He asked, with a cocky tone. Laureen could practically hear the smug grin on his face. "Shut up! I could kill you right now, you prick!" She said. This made the stranger laugh, which caused Laureen to frown and clench her teeth. "Fine! I don't need answers anyway!" She yelled, swinging the crowbar down.

The intruder moved fast, tumbling off the couch as the crowbar sunk into the couch behind him. With quick movements, he pulled out a knife from his hoodie pocket and jumped onto the couch, grinning wildly. He held the crowbar with his other hand, making sure it stayed sunk into the couch, so Laureen couldn't get it back. His hood flew backwards at this, revealing his raven black hair. This was the first time Laureen had seen his face, and it nearly sent her into shock. A wide smile was cut into his mouth, trailing up to his cheek bones. His eyelids were nonexistent, eyes bloodshot with no way to close them.

"Ha! what now, girly?" He laughed, pressing the knife to her throat. Her brain instantly clicked, and her eyes widened even more. "J...Jeffery..." She said quietly. This was the boy Malachi talked about for two years? She had often times tried to imagine who he was, what he acted like, or what he looked like. Even with all of the most terrible or strange versions of him that she had conjured up in her own imagination, she could have never imagined this.

Jeff's face straightened as much as his smile would allow. He was ready to kill this girl, barely noticing what she actually looked like. Gray skin, and her eyes had discolored wights matching that. Their irises were a weird tan color. 'What the hell is with this chick?' He thought. Even though his knife was pressed to her throat, not enough to cut (but just enough to frighten), he suddenly had to think twice. She certainly seemed fairly different than a normal human being, and did just try to attack him as her first instinct. ...Was she a proxy, like him?

Years ago, a tall, faceless man known as Slenderman found him soon after leaving Malachi's house. There was place called Slender Mansion (Jeff constantly made fun of the name) in a part of the woods that only opens to those that had seen it before. It was a place the faceless supernatural being had ripped out of time and space, and raised killers to be his proxies, spreading chaos to humanity. Of course, he can't have his own proxies out growing him, or getting older than him at all, for that matter. So he placed a curse on Slender Mansion. Whoever walked through the front door would stay that age forever, and this of course went for Slender too. Still, it didn't make you immortal, which Jeff had been disappointed about.

He made a small 'ch' sound, taking his knife away from Laureen's neck. She could very well be a proxy, looking as she does. Most proxies have some sort of change about them- even the little girl, Sally, at the mansion had sharpened teeth and two separate rows of them behind those. "Who are you?" Jeff asked, holding his knife by his side. Laureen blinked. What? What just happened? "Are you Malachi's daughter or something?" Jeff asked, putting his knife in his hoodie pocket, utterly disappointed that he couldn't kill this girl.

Laureen snapped out of her daze, and her eyes mixed with a light orange. Jeff observed this, not too surprised, since he was almost certain this girl was a proxy. "....No, I'm not...his daughter." Laureen managed to say. "You just live with him, then? What's your name?" Jeff asked again, his voice cold and bored. "...Laureen." She replied. Jeff raised an eyebrow. The name sounded familiar to him, though he wasn't sure where he heard it. "Laureen...Laureen, Laureen...what's that from?" He muttered, thinking back to when he heard that. Maybe on the news? He watched that sometimes, to see how his fellow murderers where doing, and occasionally his own killings.

He snapped his fingers. "Ah! Laureen Pitch! You killed those girls at that one school." He said casually. Laureen winced slightly. "Yeah....that was me." She said, somewhere in between a normal and regretful tone. She pried her crowbar out of the couch as she spoke, inspecting the top for a moment. It seemed fine. The couch on the other hand, had a big hole in it, stuffing escaping onto the cushion bellow. "So you are a proxy. Figures." Jeff said, rolling his eyes. Laureen lifted an eyebrow.

She was still very much afraid of the teen in front of her, but holding her crowbar made her feel more confident. "Proxy?" She asked, not having any clue what Jeffery was talking about. Her voice was a bit quieter than usual. Jeff's eyes focused back on her. "Wait... you're not a proxy? But you seem like one. You've killed before, too." Jeff said. Laureen slowly shook her head. "No idea. But if you're one of these 'proxies', I can't have you in the house." Laureen said, her eyes colored slightly with gray as she raised her crowbar. She ignored the shaking of her hands and put on a confident voice.

Jeff would've blinked if he could. There's no way this girl wasn't a proxy! He huffed at her. He seemed rather childish, Laureen observed, but she already knew that from Malachi's talking. "I'm allowed here, ya know! Didn't Malachi tell you that? I don't have to listen to your rambling." Jeff said. Laureen's eyes widened slightly. "He told you that?" She asked. Jeff smirked. Laureen shook her head, lowering her crowbar to a less intimidating stance by her side. "He's not here, anyway. Come back in two days or so if you want." She said, looking at Jeff's face.

It still shocked her; his carved in smile was quite the disturbing sight. Jeff's smirk didn't fall, just making his cut smile wider. "I can wait. I don't feel like going home just yet." Jeff said. Laureen could feel herself getting aggravated, her eyes mixing with red now. Red, orange, and grey; what a mix. "Well, you can't stay here. So go kill yourself something and come back later." Laureen said coldly. Jeff's eyes sparkled a little and Laureen instantly regretted saying that. "You want me to go kill someone?" He asked. "W-well...something, preferably." Laureen answered.

'What the heck am I saying?! I don't want him to kill anything!' She thought. "As long as it gets you out of the house." She finished. Jeff smiled and nearly ran all the way upstairs, shouting back a rushed "Fine with me!". Laureen blinked. Did he really just do that? Well, she didn't know what to expect, but not that. She heard the pulley system lowering the elevator, and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She fell to her knees behind the couch, dropping the crowbar, eyes wide. She almost killed Jeff. She almost got killed by Jeff. She almost had Jeff staying in her home.

Her knees felt weak as her eyes filled with tan fear, as if she was just now experiencing what she should have felt when Jeff was here. Shaking, she stared at the floor below her until she was ready to stand. She grabbed the back of the couch for balance, feeling a breeze of cold through her whole body. 'Proxy? What's a proxy? He said something about a proxy.' She thought. She walked around to the front of the couch and sat down, instinctively picking up her crowbar on the way. She stared at the ceiling, thinking over what Jeff had said to her.

He knew about her murdering those three girls. Of course he did, It wasn't too surprising that it was on the news. But one thing was really bugging her. "What's a proxy?" She said aloud, covering her face with her hand. A 'proxy', normally, meant a representative or substitute. But it sounded as though it meant something slightly different to Jeff. And even if he meant it by it's normal definition, what the hell would a murderer be substituting for? Especially one so...weird. This little scuffle made her exhausted. All of her energy was wasted on fear. She sighed.

*20 minutes later*

Jeff spent the last 20 minutes horsing around with a rabbit he found, chasing it into the woods and laughing. He had climbed a tree, watching the rabbit below him. He laughed as he jumped down and killed the rabbit, hearing it scream bloody murder. Rabbit's screams had always struck Jeffery as funny. How silly was it for an animal to scream like that? He laughed again, wiping his bloodied hands on his already dirtied sweater. He tucked his knife into his pocket, looking at the dead rabbit. He smiled. Killing rabbits was fun, especially at the moment they screamed.

It wasn't the same as killing humans, but it was a way to enjoy himself when he wasn't in the town. He then thought about Malachi. The reason he went to the old man's house was to..get away from the Slender Mansion for a while. He would do this sometimes, staying away from the safe house for himself and fellow killers for up to three weeks at a time. This worried Slender, and often angered him, but he wasn't about to stop Jeff if it was calming him down. Jeff had a short temper after all, and couldn't be with a group of people for too long without snapping at someone. So he would take random breaks from the mansion, as too not kill his room mates.

Besides, if it was urgent enough, Slender would just call him back to the mansion anyway. Though, he didn't want to stop Jeff from calming himself down, as everyone enjoyed his company a little more when no one was in danger of being hurt. There had even been timed Jeff threatened to kill one of his roommates, but Slender stepped in long before it ever became a reality, scolding Jeff with a strict warning. If Jeff did end up ever killing another proxy, Slenderman would kill him. Literally, kill him.

It was the same thing for if he ever got caught. Even if he managed to escape, Slender would kill him before he had a chance to get away from this town. It was the same for all the other proxies of Slenderman as well, and it wouldn't be changing any time soon. Recently, he had been feeling that certain anger towards everyone in that crowded mansion again, and realized he needed to get out before he did something he'd regret. So, to avoid going somewhere he'd get caught (he was sort of famous now), he decided to drop by Malachi's place and stay there for a while.

He knew Malachi wouldn't mind seeing him, and he didn't mind Malachi even half as much as it may seem he did. It had just been a while since he was back in Hollow Springs, and a longer while before he gathered his its enough to actually go back to Malachi's cabin. He pictured the look on his face when he would realize that Jeff hadn't aged a day. He chuckled at the thought, walking back towards the cabin without realizing it. He stopped himself. That girl, Laureen, was she actually a proxy? There's no way she wasn't one...right? He continued walking, still trailing back to the cabin.

'What if...she just doesn't know it yet? Can that happen?' He thought. He then thought of something else. 'Maybe she just hasn't realized it because she's living with Malachi. Geez, how long has she lived there if that's the case?' He thought, sticking his hands in his pockets and feeling over the handle of his knife. He tried to think back to exactly when he saw that news report, but soon grunted in frustration as he ceased racking his brain. The confusion was aggravating him, and he didn't want to waste too much time on this girl, anyway.

Although, all proxies are supposed to be living safely under Slender's roof. He shook his head. 'Ah, she's fine. She looks happy, at least. Maybe I'll see some news on her in the future, but there's no reason to pull her away if she's doing ok on her own. Besides, it's not like I really care.' He thought, walking back along the trail until the cabin came into view. He then realized he left the elevator down. He first instinct was to cuss, or fix his mistake before Malachi saw it, but then stopped himself.

That was silly. He didn't live here any more, and he didn't need to keep himself on his toes for Malachi's rules. He eventually reached the inside of the elevator and pulled himself up to the top floor, locking the elevator in place even though he had just told himself he didn't need to follow the rules. He stepped noisily down the stairs, walking into the living room. He was surprised to see Laureen asleep on the couch, snoring lightly and looking peaceful. He sighed through his nose, smiling slightly at the sight of her hand resting on her crowbar.

Now, Jeff could be rather rude at times, but now wasn't one of those times. He felt rather satisfied after actually killing something, which melted away the frustration of not having killed Laureen earlier. Seeing her sleeping with her hand on a weapon reminded him of when he used to do the same thing, back when Slenderman first invited him to be a proxy. "Great. Where am I supposed to sleep?" Jeff said to the unconscious Laureen, voice lowered a bit in volume. He walked over to Malachi's room. "Guess I'll be stealing this bed for a while." He said, smirking slightly (even though his carved smile made the small smirk almost invisible).

He jumped onto the bed, landing on his back. He kicked his shoes off and pulled the dark green blanket on himself, turning on his side. He noticed, as he stared at the wall, that there were drawings and newspapers littering it. He also noticed that some were about himself, and connected to others with small red strings. Had Malachi been tracking him? He sighed and rolled onto his back, pulling out a dark rag from his pants pocket. He was used to napping in trees or in the woods when he was away from Slender's home, so he always brought this rag with him to cover his unblinking eyes. Of course he would bring it with him now as well, when he was planning on staying here for a few weeks.

He flopped the rag lazily over his eyes and tried to sleep. Sleeping was usually a struggle for him...of course. It wasn't surprising that the lack of eyelids would come along with the price of insomnia. Jeff's thoughts began to wonder, as they always did before he tried to sleep. Eventually, his train of thought settled on what Slender would say if he brought Laureen to the mansion, where she was most likely supposed to be. He would probably praise him, but it's not like he was looking for praise. He might be scolded if he just leaves her here, but is there really any reason to take her away? Maybe Slender would find her, anyway, no matter what Jeff did?

But then again...would she stop killing if she stayed here with Malachi? Had she already? That's no good...Slender needs as many proxies as he can get, to keep the over-world in balance with Zalgo in the underworld. Jeff wasn't one to get scared easily, but on that small list of fears, Zalgo was at the top. A tall demon (as tall as Slender man!), or that he considered a demon, covered in different mouths with sharp teeth and ooze occasionally dripping from them. A red aura surrounded him, and his horns where undoubtedly sharp enough to impale a person. The last mouth Zalgo had always remained closed, only to be opened when it was time for the world to come to an end.

He shook the thought away, sighing and trying to just sleep. He had gone days without sleeping in the past, but he was rather tired after walking around all day. 'C'mon, just stop thinking. Fall asleep already...' He thought, and quietly laid there, trying to simply sleep. Finally, after about 15 minutes, he gave up. He groaned and tucked the rag back in his pocket, swinging his legs onto the floor. 'Looks like I'm not sleeping tonight. Can't sleep- stupid brain...' Jeff thought, grumbling to himself as he stood up. He walked lazily into the living room to see Laureen still sleeping soundly.

Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow- Jeff observed- and he couldn't get over the fact she had gray skin. He wondered how she might have gotten this way. Maybe her skin turning gray had effected her eyes as well? Is that why they changed color so drastically like that? Jeff walked past the couch and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and searched for something to snack on. He then realized he wasn't hungry and sighed, closing the fridge and sitting down at the table. He quickly became bored, and instantly wished Laureen was awake to answer some of his questions.

He also just wanted to talk to someone, as the company could cure some of his boredom. He contemplated waking Laureen up a few times, but decided against the childish thought, telling himself that he'd get her to answer his questions in the morning. He spent the night lounging around, not doing much but play on Laureen's iPhone, that was attached to a charger in an outlet beside the stairs. Once he was bored with the very few games on the phone, he let himself be drowned out in his own thoughts, silently watching as the light slowly rose from in between the boards on the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Some actual creepypasta stuff! X-P
> 
> (ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!)


	5. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, we can't just go past all this without a certain reunion, can we? (I'm such a sucker for this crap) :-P  
> Thanks for reading! XD

Laureen opened her sleepy purple eyes to a rude awakening. "Morning! Finally!" Jeff was right there, staring at her as he leaned above her, his smile widened horrifically and his bloodshot eyes meeting with the girl's on the couch. Laureen's eyes instantly widened at the sight. She screamed, kicking Jeffery away with such force that it made the couch tip and slowly fall over. "Woah!" They both said, as Jeff tripped backwards over the coffee table and Laureen fell backwards with the couch.

From his spot on the floor, Jeff was in between the t.v and the table, feet slung over the table from how he tripped. He laughed at Laureen anyway, clutching his stomach and laughing out loud. The only part of her visible to him were her legs, sticking out over the fallen couch's rim. Laureen groaned and gently pulled herself onto the ground, grabbing her crowbar as she stood, flushing slightly from embarrassment. "What the hell?!" She yelled to Jeff, who was still cracking up from his place on the floor.

Awkwardly, she twisted in her position until she was sitting on her knees on the fallen back of the couch. She stood, storming forward and swinging her crowbar onto the coffee table, dangerously close to Jeff's leg. His laughter died down a bit as he watched her hand draw back her crowbar, and only just then noticed that she was wearing a metal ring. Funny: proxies don't usually wear jewelry. After Jeff's laughter calmed down (finally), he moved his legs off the table and to the side, turning his whole body that way and standing up.

Laureen blinked. Even with what situation Jeff had been in, he managed to get out of it rather gracefully. Too gracefully, it seemed. Almost as if it were a practiced routine, and Jeff was just preforming. It made Laureen a little jealous. How could a psycho killer be so graceful without even trying? Laureen wasn't graceful at all, not when she was on the ground or in the trees. Jeff noticed Laureen's eyes change slightly- with a light green around the edges of her irises, purple and gray making up the rest.

It was so strange, Jeff couldn't stop staring at them for a moment. "How'd you get those eyes?" He asked, assuming she got them somehow when she become 'proxy material', as she most clearly appeared to be. There were many proxies who gained inhuman things before or after meeting Slenderman. Laureen froze for a moment, and almost thought of the question as uncalled for. There had been people who've wondered that in the past, of course, but most kept that inquiry to themselves out of the fear of being rude.

"What? What do you mean 'How'd I get them'? They're my eyes!" Laureen said, as though Jeff was stupid, with a little hint of offense in her voice. "So...you've always had them like that?" Jeff asked. "Yes! Of course I have!" Laureen said, a little aggravated and not wanting to put up with this boy any longer. "But your skin wasn't always that way?" Jeff countered, pointing without much thought. Laureen noticeably stiffened.

"No..." She replied.

"What happened, then?"

"...I...got poisoned."

"Poisoned?"

"Cadmium poisoning. It's a type of metal. The poison leaves your skin and the wights of your eyes gray."

Jeff went quiet for a minute. "So then...how are your eyes that way?" He asked again. Laureen groaned in aggravation, walking away from him and into the kitchen. "Hey, wait a minute, you can't get mad! You never actually explained that part!" He said, following after Laureen. "Born with it." Laureen explained shortly, pulling open the fridge with the top of her crowbar. She thought about the absurdity of her situation as she pulled out the gallon of milk. Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer, was in her home. He was looking for Malachi. He almost killed her after she almost killed him.

And now...he just seemed like some annoying little kid. Huh. How absurd, indeed. She had just finished pouring herself a glass of milk (she didn't feel like having cereal) when Jeff decided to start talking again. "So...do you actually kill people, or did Malachi force you not to?" He asked. Laureen nearly sent the gallon of milk exploding onto the floor, catching the plastic handle in mid-air before it hit the ground. She sighed in relief, putting the jug away as she spoke. "What brought that on? No, I don't kill people, unlike you." Laureen replied, grabbing her cup and sitting in Malachi's usual seat, dragging her crowbar along with her and setting it on the table. She took a sip of milk as Jeff sat down across from her.

Jeff was reminded of the first time he ever gave into Malachi's rules and manners and nonsense, sitting in this exact seat and rambling off as Malachi listened quietly. He ignored the memory, and frowned (as much as he could with that permanent smile) at Laureen. "But you did kill those three girls." Jeff mentioned. "That doesn't make me a serial killer. I-I had a fit of blind rage and...I don't know, I was scared out of my mind that they'd hurt me again. I guess I thought of them as powerful...able to at least move out of the way when I swung at them..." Laureen said, twirling her glass slightly in her hand and watching the milk move slightly.

Jeff smiled a bit. "So, it felt great knowing they weren't all powerful, right? That was your motivation. Heheh, can't say I haven't heard that one before." He said, leaning back casually in his chair. Laureen glared at him, her eyes mixing with a tinted, strange gray. The glare was cold, and made Laureen appear rather deadly. Jeff stopped smiling, but didn't frown either, genuinely taking in the scene in front of him. "Good look for you." He complimented, in the best way he knew how. "What's that supposed to mean?" Laureen asked, voice calm, taking a drink of her milk. "The glare. It's a good one." Jeff replied, smirking. Laureen rolled her eyes and quickly finished off her glass, taking it to the sink to be washed later.

She walked right past Jeff, as if ignoring him, and grunted a bit as she flipped the couch back on it's feet. Jeff followed after she sat down, coming out of the kitchen as Laureen grabbed the remote from the table. As she turned on the t.v, Jeff flopped himself over the back of the couch, watching the channel upside down. Laureen didn't mention it, scrolling through the channels until she found an episode of her favorite show playing. She smiled and leaned back, setting the crowbar she didn't realize she brought with her beside her on the couch. Jeff decided to watch for a few minutes. After all, he was feeling bored and didn't mind a little t.v at the moment.

The woman in the episode appeared snappy; she was dressed in a long red dress and pearls, blond hair tied up in a bun with two strands of curls brushing her ears. She seemed very confident, looking out towards another person a little ways in front of her. They appeared to be in some type of warehouse, though it was well-kept and clearly still operational, with an few strange contraptions in the background.

'And what do you propose, Alex? Send my business crashing down for all to see? That wouldn't leave you in a very good position, would it?' The woman said, head moving slightly so her long earrings jangled. The man in question, Alex, was a short and stout man, dressed in khaki trousers and a flannel shirt, hair down to his ears and strands going over his left eye. He snarled at the woman. 'I don't care about my position, you wretched woman! You can't be doing this! Those were innocent people!' Alex yelled, the sound residing around the warehouse they were in, all machinery seeming to be stopped specifically so they could have this conversation.

'Innocent people, Alex dear? Are you really so certain?' The woman asked, shifting her weight to her other leg and looking fairly amused. Alex gave a face of confusion and anger, before it slowly turned to realization and horror. "Oh no!" Laureen said to the t.v, covering her mouth and keeping her eyes glued to the screen. Jeff raised an eyebrow, confused, before the woman made the big reveal. She raised her chin and laughed a psychotic laugh.

'That's right, Alex! You get it now, don't you? I got those people from your little health care center! The ones you said you would shelter, the only ones you couldn't tell anyone were missing. The ones that went insane and committed crimes of their own, and the ones who just weren't functional, they're all here! All of them! And there you were trying to pin it on Max Bencher's sketchy company!' The woman let out another laugh. Alex's eyes teared up and he became angry. 'You...NO! That's NOT true! I found Marie's corpse at Maxwell's!' He said, chocking a bit on the word 'corpse'.

The woman laughed again. 'You say that like I'm the only person capable of killing, my dear!' She said, and insane look in her eyes and a smile on her face. Alex gritted his teeth, head down so his hair covered his eyes. 'What? Now you have nothing to say?' The woman asked, amused. Alex reached behind him, and the camera view angled on his hand pulling a large pocket knife out of his back pocket, and flicking it open with the woman in the background. Then the ending music kicked in, and the screen went to the credits.

"Darn it! Always leaves off in a cliffhanger!" Laureen said, clicking to the 'guide' button on the remote to see when the next episode would come on. Jeff held back his laughter, and instead settled for a small amused sound and the raising of his eyebrow. "Why do you like this show so much?" He asked. Laureen looked at him like he was crazy. "Because it's awesome! You'd understand if you watched the first few episodes." She said, but her tone didn't quite sound as casual as she wanted it to. She was still uncomfortable around Jeff, and of course she was still afraid of him, but she wasn't about to let that show.

Jeff stayed in his place, hanging lazily over the back of the couch, as Laureen changed the channel. It ended up landing on The Amazing World of Gumball, which wasn't a bad cartoon, and was currently seeming to be the only entertaining thing on, since the next episode of Asylum only came on at 7:30 p.m and 9:30 a.m tomorrow morning. Jeff let out a few short laughs at some scenes, and she was surprised at how laid back she was, sitting here with a famous killer and watching cartoons. Just a little while ago, she was going to kill him. She honestly would have no problem killing him even now- she didn't care for him. But what would Malachi say?

Speaking of which, what exactly did Jeff want from him? She looked at Jeff the corner of her eye. He laughed again at a comment the orange fish on the show had made, eyes glued to the screen even when Laureen gripped her crowbar. It would be rather easy to kill him right now, with him being so open like this. Then again, how would she explain what happened to Malachi? She mentally clicked her teeth in anger. Malachi was the only thing preventing this boy from dying. Wait...boy? 'Well, yes, a boy. He's so childish.' She thought. Laureen's eyes widened in realization. 'Wait a minute. Boy. He is definitely a younger boy, a teen at that. How? He should be a decade older!' She thought.

Jeff tore his unblinking eyes away from the television, to see Laureen looking at him with wide eyes. The sight almost made him want to mimic the action, but he wasn't about to do that. "What? Something on my face?" He asked sarcastically. "How old are you?" Laureen asked. Jeff smirked a bit, just adding in to his insane look. "Wouldn't you like to know." He said. Laureen would've rolled her eyes, but she was being serious right now. "How old are you, Jeff?" Laureen asked again. Jeff's smirk faded.

"Sheesh, fine. I'm 16. Why?" He answered, tilting his head and looking undeniably childish from his position. Laureen couldn't help but think about how she was a year older than him. She ignored the brief thought. "Malachi said you were around that age when he knew you. How are you still...young?" Laureen asked. Jeff stared at her for a minute, wondering if he should tell her about Slender Mansion, the curse, the other proxies, and such. Would she want to check it out? She'd be curious and want to follow him back, right? She'd want to know all about it.

He could imagine Laureen at the mansion, hanging out with the proxies, being part of the family. It was a nice thought (kinda), but it's not like Slender was desperate for more proxies...even if it couldn't hurt to have them. But really- was it okay to bring in a person who's only murdered once? Well, three times, technically, but they were all together so it doesn't count....right? Is there even a specific number of people you have to kill to become a proxy? Would Slenderman even accept her? Laureen's eyes narrowed at Jeff, and he realized he didn't have much more time to think.

"Uh...will you believe the fountain of youth?" Jeff joked. Laureen gave him a sarcastic look, and he smiled slightly. "Guess not. Well, then. I guess I'll tell you the truth. I'm cursed! Got a curse placed on me the minute I walked out of Malachi's home." Jeff lied. Laureen raised her eyebrows, eyes slowly going orange. "Cursed? ...You're cursed? Those are real?" Laureen asked, pausing the t.v and setting the remote on the coffee table. "Yeah! completely real! Some weird, really tall guy found me and cursed me. Then he just disappeared, after he told me I couldn't kill my own and couldn't age. Not immortal, though, darn it." Jeff muttered that last part.

Laureen couldn't believe that. His story was just too unreal, even if it was a reason for his apparent ability to stay young. 'There must have been some other reason,' She assured herself, 'this was just too far-fetched'. "So a tall guy cursed you with eternal youth?" She assured. "Super tall! And faceless!" Jeff replied, with a smile underlying his carved one. Laureen stared at him for a minute as if he were crazy, and then face-palmed. Jeff laughed. Laureen realized he had a boyish laugh, like a young boy playing around with his toy truck. Of course, the pitch was lower. Still, it was a way too innocent laugh for a serial killer to have. Laureen dismissed the thought, putting her hand down and watching as Jeff's laughter faded. "Oh come on! What's with that reaction?" He asked with a joking tone.

SQUEAK!

Both teens went quiet at the sound.

CLANK!

It sounded like the elevator locking in place. Footsteps sounded throughout the ceiling. Jeff smiled. "So he's back?" He asked. Laureen opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't get any words out. She felt a shock go through her as familiar black boots and the rim of brown trousers showed on the stairs. "I...I guess so." Laureen answered. Malachi couldn't see them from where he was, so called to Laureen without thinking. "I'm back! I picked up some of those crackers you like, if you wan to-....." Malachi's words caught in his throat as he caught sight of the two.

Two. The other being the boy he had seen so long ago. Jeffery Woods was lying over the back of the couch, smiling as always. Malachi froze. Partially from fear, as Jeffery's face was disturbing no matter how many times he saw it. His newspapers had also provided him with information on the aggressive and horrifying ways Jeff killed. He was absolutely shocked to see him here, in his own home, hanging out with his 'daughter' like a regular teenager. He dropped the grocery bag he had been carrying, not knowing how to react.

"Hey old man." Jeff said, a hint of warmness in his voice that Laureen had never heard from him before. "Jeffery..." Malachi said, nearly breathless. His voice regained it's usual spirit as he walked forward, beside the couch. He looked down at Jeffery with a toothy smile, chuckling a bit as Jeffery moved off of the couch and stood in one graceful move. Jeffery was almost as tall as him, but that wasn't too surprising, as Malachi was only 5'9. He laughed heartily and ruffled the boy's messy hair. Jeff obviously didn't like it, but kept quiet.

"Jeffery! What are you doing here, boy?! Where've you been?!" He asked in a friendly tone. Jeff smiled at his voice. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he did miss Malachi during the past decade. "I just decided to swing by. It was on the way. Besides, I could use a place to crash." Jeff said. To Laureen's ears, Jeff was being kind of rude, barging in and deciding to 'crash' here without asking. But Malachi knew that he wasn't being rude. It was just Jeffery's way of asking for things.

"Of course! Who else is gonna talk my ear off all the time?" He said, voice raised a bit in volume joyfully. Jeff laughed a little. "Because that one seems sooo talkative." Jeff said sarcastically, pointing a thumb to Laureen. She huffed a bit, and couldn't help bu note that she had just been refered to as 'that one'. Malachi laughed again. "Oh, I should've been here to see you in! I'm sure you gave Laureen quite the fright!" He said. Jeff smirked. "Well, surprisingly enough-" He started, but Laureen hastily cut him off.

"Y-yeah he did! Nearly scared me half to death!" She said, slipping the crowbar in the cushions behind her back, in between the arm and seat of the couch. Jeff raised an eyebrow, about to speak when Malachi spoke instead. "Of course!" He laughed out, ruffling the boy's hair again. Jeff clenched his fist in his pocket to keep himself from smacking Malachi's hand away, putting up with it for now. This behavior was nothing to be mad about, and he knew that. After all, Malachi was only just reunited with him. It was only natural behavior for the old man.

Malachi let his hand fall to the side as his eyes fell back to Jeffery. Part of him couldn't believe Jeff was actually here, and getting along with Laureen, too! The other part was filled with happiness at seeing his metaphorical 'grandson' again. That's how Malachi thought of him; Jeffery was like the grandson he rarely ever got to see. He then realized how long it had actually been since he had last seen Jeff. "Look at you...haven't aged a bit..." Malachi said, grin fading and replaced with a look of confusion. Laureen crossed her arms.

"He's cursed, apparently. By a tall faceless man out in the woods." She said, not masking the hint of sass in her voice. Malachi smiled again. "Cursed by a faceless man? I have no choice but to believe you, Jeff, but really?" He said, a knowing smile crossing his face. He knew Jeff was keeping something from them, but he wasn't about to pry. "True story, old man. I'm cursed to stay 16 forever!" Jeff replied, smiling, a laugh threatening to escape him. Malachi smirked and gave Laureen a look, making Laureen smirk a bit as well. She knew what he was thinking. 'You're a year older than him'.

Jeff noticed their wordless exchange, raising an eyebrow. "What? What is it?" He asked in a slightly childish tone. "Nothing." Both Malachi and Laureen said in unison. Their voices were calm and amused, and Jeff was left in confusion as the conversation moved on. "So!" Malachi clapped his hands in his usual way, "Who wants snacks?" He grabbed his grocery bag, pouring the contents onto the table. On the table were now a small pack of cookies, two chocolate bars, and a family sized bag of chips.

Malachi usually brought home snacks for Laureen and himself to share when he went out for work, because he always passed a great little store on the way home that sold all kinds of snacks and little nick-nacks. "Alright!" Jeff said, snagging one of the chocolate bars before anyone could protest. "Hey!" Laureen said, watching as Jeff peeled back the wrapper to her candy bar. "Oh, you can have mine Laureen, he's our guest!" Malachi said, taking the other chocolate bar from the table and holding it out to her.

She felt bad taking his chocolate however, and politely declined. "No, Malachi, it's fine. You can have it, I wasn't in the mood for chocolate anyway." She said, smiling. Malachi smiled back apologetically, opening the small pack of cookies. He handed them to Laureen, sitting to the side of Jeff on the couch. Laureen thanked him and unpaused the cartoon, as she usually did when they cracked open snacks to watch a movie. She pressed 'guide' on the remote to see if there was anything else on. When she saw that there wasn't, she switched to the menu to see if there were any good movies available.

Jeff was already about halfway through with the bar of chocolate, pulling it off by little squares the way his brother used to. His brother....he didn't want to think about his old family. He suddenly lost his appetite for the chocolate, watching as Laureen put on a movie that he hadn't caught the title of. He looked to Laureen, then to Malachi, then back to Laureen again. They seemed rather comfortable, as if they'd done this a thousand times.

Jeff didn't really watch movies with people, but instead usually watched them alone in his room at Slender Mansion, on the small box t.v that every room had. That is, when the other proxies weren't being completely too annoying and loud for Jeff to hear the television. He tried to settle in and pay attention to the movie, finding it difficult when around two other people. He looked down at the chocolate bar in his hands, trying to will up his appetite again. He found it impossible; something about the chocolate was just horribly unsatisfying now.

With a grunt, he held it out to Laureen, waiting for her to take the last squares. Laureen seemed surprised, but took the chocolate, observing how Jeff wouldn't make eye contact with her. Jeff wasn't used to sharing, but technically it wasn't even that... right? He had taken it in the first place; he just didn't want it anymore, and was giving it back, that's all. Then why is it he couldn't bring himself to look her way when he did it? It just felt awkward to even attempt it, so he kept his eyes away. "Didn't poison it or anything, did you?" Laureen joked.

Whew, thank God she said something. He could look at her now; it wasn't awkward anymore. "No promises." He joked back, earning him a small laugh from Laureen as she bit a square off the chocolate. She ate it differently. It made Jeff wonder briefly if the way he ate it was childish, or maybe just different from the modern way to eat them. Shaking the thought away, he leaned back and tried to focus on the movie, a comfortable feeling filling him as he stole a cookie from Laureen's small box, making her laugh and open it more for everyone to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Kinda slipped that homey feeling back into this, huh? Well, that will be over soon enough...*evil grin*.


	6. Arcos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems as though Malachi has something on his mind....

The trio watched t.v for a few hours, and even started criticizing the shows that came on, laughing at the cliches and impossible occurrences. Eventually, Malachi claimed he was getting hungry and invited the two teens to the table, to have the leftover pasta in the fridge for lunch. They followed him into the kitchen, and Malachi set their plated down on the table, while giving a playful "bon appitiet!". Despite the pleasant atmosphere of the kitchen and their dinner conversation, Jeff was uncomfortable. He ate his pasta before everyone else and sat awkwardly, on the edge of his seat, barely speaking at all.

Malachi and Laureen talked about different topics, things that he wasn't too familiar with, including metal-working. Eventually, Malachi started talking about some of the sights he had seen in the small town just off of their own. Jeff's head raised. Now, this was a topic he could follow! He'd traveled a surprising amount, including hijacking a helicopter to Britain at one point. Laureen was listening to Malachi, and right when he finished saying something about seeing lots of small shops in Teria, the small town he was in, Jeff spoke.

"There's lots of little shops like that in Arcos. There's a group of them that are actually color-coded! Along with that, they usually have little stands outside with their best stuff, trying to get people to buy it. Prices are ridiculous half the time, though." He said. Laureen didn't say anything. She was half-expecting Jeff to stay silent during the entire meal. Malachi, however, was just waiting for Jeffery to start talking, as he used to do. Malachi smiled. "You've been traveling! Do tell." He said. Jeff sat back and told Malachi about his trip to Arcos, which was a long ways away from their own little town of Sparingburg. Laureen fiddled with her ring absentmindedly as Jeff spoke of a man in Arcos.

"When I went outside, I saw this guy stumbling around. I thought he was drunk or something, so I just turned away. Second later, he called out to me. 'Hey there, little boy! What are you doing out here?'" Jeff said, mocking the man's voice. Laureen looked up at him, but didn't stop messing with her ring. Malachi looked intrigued, hands twisted together under his chin, elbows on the table. "So, I told him to..uh, 'buzz' off, and guess what he does? Pulls out a rope! Then he runs at me! I pulled out my knife to threaten the guy, but guess what he does? The idiot runs right into my knife!" Jeff said, recalling the story vividly. Laureen stopped fiddling with her ring, silent as Jeff finished his story.

"Then, I figured out the guy had a gun on him, and this weird looking paper. It was all crumpled up, and usually I'd just leave it, but the paper had blood on it. I thought I might've stabbed through it, so I picked up the paper and unraveled it to see if I did. Turns out I didn't, but the paper was a weird-looking order form. It said the names of people, a price beside them, and instructions on how to 'make them into dolls'- and you don't want to know, trust me. I'm pretty sure that guy was running a business selling kids. Arcos is a pretty bad place, now that I think of it. I barely had any trouble getting into there." Jeff said, but suddenly became aware of how much he was rambling.

Malachi sat back. "Yeah, you're pretty famous now. It's a wonder you can get around at all nowadays." He said. Jeff felt a small ping of shame run through him at those words, though he didn't know why. He tried to ignore it, as the feeling was annoying him. Laureen simply sat in silence, drinking in the scene in front of her. Jeff was talking about this as if it were normal, and talked about killing that man like it was nothing. It's true he hadn't meant to, but Laureen couldn't shake the thought that he was actually just killing someone before he ran into that man in his story.

She could imagine him coming out of a house, hoodie now covered in blood, then running into the man. She then noted the traces of blood on the sides of his hoodie, as if he had wiped his hands on it. Did he kill someone when she told him to leave? It definitely wasn't impossible. Laureen tried not to think about it, looking back up at Jeff's face. He looked uncomfortable. "So, did you do anything about it?" Malachi asked Jeffery. Jeff looked at him. "What?" He asked. "Did you do anything about the people selling children?" He asked again.

Jeff would've blinked if he could. What? Why was Malachi asking him this? Of course, Jeff didn't do anything about it, he hadn't even thought about it much at the time. If it means anything, he did kill another one of the company's henchman that he saw in an alleyway. What would he have done? Even if he had pursued the company, or even killed everyone there (despite being vastly outnumbered), there was no way he'd be able to shut it completely down. But, he didn't really care about it.

Many of the henchman were sloppy and left evidence; it was only a matter of time before the police found them and shut the company down. He didn't live there, and wasn't in danger of them, so why would he care? "...I don't see why I would. I was just there for a little while. They're close to getting shut down, anyway." Jeff replied. Laureen's eyes narrowed. The word 'heartless' came to mind, even if she had seen proof that Jeff did, in fact, have a heart. He had managed to kill one of these guys and find evidence to their secret incorporation, and didn't do anything about it? With as deadly as he was, he would be able to shut them down himself no problem!

....Right? Maybe she was overestimating him. Malachi, however, seemed unfazed by the answer. "Were they? The police down there must be good, then." Malachi replied. Jeff didn't say anything. He knew the police there in Acros weren't the best, but even they would be able to piece that much evidence together. "They're alright." Jeff said. Laureen stood up and took her empty plate to the sink. She then went back out to the living room, lying down and sighing as she thought over...well, everything.

She thought over her life, the choices she made, why she thought about things the way she did, why Jeff thought about things the way he did, and why she'd screwed herself over by murdering three near-innocent girls in a work closet with a crowbar. Meanwhile, as she was lost in thought, the two males in at the table continued to talk. Jeff felt more comfortable now that Laureen was gone, and the phrase 'Two is company, three's a crowd' came to his mind. He grinned at Malachi. "So. Keeper, your 'daughter'? She seems just swell." He said.

Malachi gave him a sarcastic disappointed look at his comment, going back to his small smile shortly after. "She isn't too good with people. A bit of an outcast, I suppose. She's not used to getting along with kids her age." He replied. 'Can't imagine why.' Jeff thought, but didn't voice it. Both were silent for a minute, and Jeff was about to start up again and change the subject, but one look at Malachi had any subjects fleeting from his mind. He looked like he was in deep thought, eyebrows furrowed together and finger lightly tapping against the wooden table.

He looked as though he was lost in his thoughts, completely forgetting that Jeff was there. If Jeff didn't know any better, he would've said Malachi was thinking of some sort of scheme, as he'd seen that look on his fellow proxies. Malachi, however, was no where near being a proxy. It made Jeff wonder what the old man could be thinking about so persistently. He felt intrigued to ask as Malachi's stance snapped, like he suddenly realized he was back in reality, and his finger stopped tapping. His eyes trailed back to Jeff, and he took a moment to stare- presumably thinking over something- before finally speaking.

"You know..." He leaned in closer, as if he was going to tell Jeff a secret, and Jeff instinctively leaned towards him as well. "Truth be told, I think she's a little... pent up." Malachi had lowered his voice in order to be completely unheard by Laureen in the next room. "Remember what you told me, Jeffery, all those years ago? How you would feel antsy and stuck-up when you couldn't kill? Like there was 'something in your skin, making you crawl' you said." His voice was a near whisper now. Jeff recalled the night, when he was trying to explain to Malachi how he felt before his second kill.

Malachi had helped him through a lot at the time, and that's why Malachi was a big part of his life even if he barely saw him. Malachi...might have actually been the first person he truly opened up to. "Yeah, I remember. So what?" Jeff replied, quirking an eyebrow and putting his full lower arm on the table. "So, the thing is, Laureen's been acting weird lately. Talking to herself, giving in to things more often, being a bit paranoid and a complete perfectionist." Malachi replied, trying to get his message across, which was already making him uncomfortable just bringing it up.

Jeff recognized Laureen's 'symptoms' as being fairly similar to what he got when he stopped killing for too long. He got too annoyed with it after just a week to continue on like that. Had Laureen gone two years living with it? Jeff couldn't imagine that, and somehow had a small new sense of respect somewhere in his mind for Laureen. Jeff sat back, thinking over what Malachi had said. Something clicked in his mind, but he wasn't sure he was right in his guess. To make sure, he proceeded to act as though he had no idea what Malachi might be hinting at. It couldn't be what he was thinking.

"And you tell me this...why?" He asked. Malachi sighed. "You're gonna make me spell it out? Alright, fine. I'm asking...asking you..." Malachi could barely get the words out, "I'm asking you to...take her with you for a bit...to relieve some of the tension I've seen her carry." Jeff's eyes widened slightly. His guess was right!? "You...wait a minute, Mal. Are you- are you asking me to take Laureen killing?" He asked, to clarify. "Well...kind of, yes. Okay, yes, that's exactly what I mean. But you know she wouldn't be comfortable killing innocent people. So, take her back to Arcos." Malachi said. Jeff felt a wave of unexpected shock go through him, and he took a moment to recover before speaking.

"What?! What do you mean 'take her back to Arcos'? Why?!" He asked, his voice in a harsh whisper so Laureen wouldn't hear them. "You know why! You saw how unsettled she was by your story! I know you have the willpower, physical and mental strength to track down those kidnappers!" Malachi explained. Jeff scrunched his eyebrows together. "So let me get this straight....you want me to take the girl who is basically your daughter with me to some dangerous place so she can kill criminals?!" He asked.

Both males were quiet for a minute, and Jeff knew that was a silent 'yes'. Malachi was, of course, skeptical about his request, and letting Laureen go to Arcos with a serial killer. But, it was true that he had seen something in Laureen that was similar to....withdrawal symptoms, almost. She seemed fine a few weeks after her kill, but, like any girl would in this area, refused to step outside. Laureen was, in fact, a bit scared of the dark. It was understandable due to how much Malachi stressed the idea of killers sneaking in at night.

Somewhat recently, though, he had found Laureen outside during the night, climbing trees and running around as if it were day. Instead of being guilty for killing rabbits around the house, she got excited to go kill them, even saying that she could do it herself. When she was making dinner, it had to be perfect, or it wasn't edible. She talked in hush whispers to herself, without even noticing. It was very similar to what he had seen in Jeff 2 days before his second kill, before he decided to be a killer. He found himself wondering how he hadn't noticed it before, how long had she been dealing with this, and if she even knew what she was going through.

That is, if Malachi was right about this. It was always possible that she had grown comfortable with the dark, skilled at killing rabbits, and more consumed in everything that she did. He had reasoned with himself that he was just being paranoid, and that it was natural for a child living in the woods to have a change of character. It would have been easier if there was more evidence to back that theory up, but changes like that come slowly and take time. This change was rapid and sudden, as if something had forced Laureen into changing. ...Even if he was wrong, this was just an added bonus in the end. There was a...slightly more important reason behind his request, after all.

Jeff sighed, breaking Malachi from his thoughts, and leaned against the back of the chair, looking away from Malachi and instead at the wall. "I don't know about this, Mal. I seriously don't think Laureen would be too happy about that (and neither would I). Plus, I can't guarantee I can keep her safe. I'm not really keen on looking after people like that." Jeff said, looking back at Malachi, "Why don't you take her? She'd be more comfortable with you."

"I don't have money for that kind of travel, Jeffery."

"And I do?"

"Well, you know how to sneak in just fine."

"Are you telling me to break the law?"

"You've done it before!"

"And?"

Malachi sighed and slumped against the chair, looking at the ceiling. "And, I need you to sneak Laureen in with you. Knowing her, if she can do something about those kidnappers she will, but only if she's already in Arcos." He said, staring at the ceiling through his slightly smudged glasses. Jeff thought about the statement, but then shook his head. "It's still crazy, Malachi. I may not know Laureen as well as you do, but I know she won't be too keen on coming to a dangerous place with me, of all people." He replied, toning down his real thoughts to be a little more polite.

"I know...Jeez, I do know that." Malachi said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, leaning back down towards the table. They, once again, stayed quiet for a minute, both thinking over Malachi's request. To Jeff, it was very out of character for Malachi to even consider asking him this. Malachi, when he lived with him, was like a force of the law, in his eyes (even when Malachi told hm that he was definitely not). He had been trying to get Jeff to never even consider killing, trying to get him not to think about his family, and forget the past.

Of course, Malachi only wanted to help him, and Jeff knew this. But before long, Jeff felt an urge, like some sort of annoying itch, to kill again. The urge was not unbearable, but with his short temper, it seemed to be at times. So soon after the urge to kill appeared...he did just that. Looking back on it wasn't unpleasant, either. Malachi had explained how valuable a life of an innocent is, and yet, he didn't feel anything for the victim. He still didn't feel the weight of that crime to this day, and even felt glimmers of pride towards it at times.

His victim had been a drunken women, staggering home with her heels in her hands, yelling slurs to someone over the phone. She never saw it coming, as she was too unaware of the footsteps behind her in her drunken shouting. The woman continued ignorantly talking on the phone up until a knife went into her stomach, painfully piercing through her back. The girl dropped her heels, hand on her wound, her face slowly evolving into a terrified expression as she dropped her phone as well. She turned to see her attacker, Jeffery.

She screamed and Jeffery attacked her again, a deranged laugh accidentally escaping his mouth. "Holly?! HOLLY?! WHAT'S GOING ON?!" The voice on the phone had said, yelling over her friend's screams. He remembered placing a hand over the girl's mouth to quiet her, plunging the kitchen knife into her chest, causing her to gag and sputter. Her pained screams finally began to die down as Jeff continued to stab and slash, quenching the homicidal urge he had. That was Jeff's first little spark of fame, as the friend over the phone managed to get the story out to the public.

He was pulled away from his thoughts by Malachi's chair scraping against the floor as he stood up. "I know she won't like it, but...Jeffery, you must have gone through this. I don't understand it, but you do. And I...I couldn't possibly be able to help her." He said. Jeffery knew what he meant. Malachi couldn't bare to see her kill someone, and definitely couldn't bring himself to actually tell her to kill someone. So he was going to get Jeff to do it. Jeff could handle seeing Laureen like that, and Jeff could handle instructing her on how to kill. At least, he was confident he could.

A vague sense of wonder passed through him. What would Laureen look like when she killed? What would she say? What would people call her, and what how she reply? Honestly, he couldn't imagine anything much further from what he had seen of her, and couldn't imagine her getting lost in the thrill of killing like he did. However, if she really was having symptoms like that, that meant she must be like him, right? She must enjoy killing as well. He was a little more motivated by the thought, but taking Laureen to Arcos was still crazy.

"I get it, Mal, but...I don't know. I don't usually have people with me, and she isn't used to sneaking around. She'd have to do whatever I say, and something tells me she's a bit too prideful to do that. She'll get us both caught." Jeff explained, crossing his arms casually and putting forth his best evidence. "I'll explain it to her; I'll explain how important it is to do what you say. She's also decently stealthy, you know! Great at hiding and light on her feet. Jeffery, I need your help with her. I read up about those things, and she might be...a little..." Malachi trailed off.

"Insane?" Jeff suggested. He knew he was insane, as most murderers were, who's to say Laureen wasn't? "...She could be going insane...that's one word for it. Unfortunately, I think the only way to keep her stable would be...to...relive some stress, essentially." Malachi replied. Jeff took a deep breath, then sighed. "...You do realize she'll have to do this again? I was only planning on staying here for two weeks or so, I'm not moving in or anything." He said, trying to get his point across. "I know...but she's gone on this way for 2 years...she can keep it up for longer afterwards. She only needs this at the moment." Malachi reasoned, partially to himself.

Jeff looked uncomfortable for a moment, but eventually gave up. As much as he didn't like the thought of traveling with Laureen, it was true that he did know what she was going through here. And frankly, he was a little curious to see her reaction when she snapped. "It's a long trip. And here I thought I was gonna be relaxing the rest of this month." He said. Malachi stared at him for a moment, then moved over to his side of the table, standing beside him. "So...you'll help me then?" He asked. Jeff looked up at him, then to the table.

He smiled slightly, eyes going soft and warm, for some unknown reason. "Alright. I'll help you out, old man." He said, giving in. Malachi smiled and ruffled Jeff's hair. "Thank you, Jeffery! I'm sorry I spoiled your vacation." He said. Jeff patiently waited for Malachi to stop ruffling his hair before speaking. "Yeah, you owe me. Better stick to it." Jeff said, voice light and calm. Malachi laughed a bit. "And what do I owe you, boy?" He asked jokingly. "I'll...think of something." Jeff replied, making Malachi laugh again. He walked out of the kitchen to join Laureen, leaving Jeffery alone at the table.

He took this as an opportunity to think, and immediately once he had fell into his deep thoughts, something told him to take back his words to Malachi. He wasn't expecting the old man to suggest something so crazy. He had sneaked past the law and hijacked different vehicles over the years to get from place to place, but a large portion of this included stealth, which he wasn't sure Laureen had mastered. He didn't want to risk being caught, or else Slenderman would surely kill him.

Of course, he remembered the sneak attack she pulled on him the other day. Even if he hadn't thought much of it, he did hear her light footsteps, and a small shuffling as she moved from place to place. He had tried to ignore it, thinking it may have been a mouse or cat or something that made it's way inside. His mistake, but his point still stood; Laureen needed to work on her stealth. How he could get that to improve, he wasn't sure. But if Laureen really would listen to him and do as he says, it may not be that big of a problem.

The other part of just getting from point A to point B was violence. They (or rather, he) would have to force a person to drive or fly them to Acros, and kill them afterwards to leave no witnesses- no people to run and tell the police that Jeff the Killer was in town. He had a feeling Laureen wouldn't approve of that. He didn't need her approval obviously, but it would be harder to work with her nagging him whenever he killed someone. He sighed and leaned against his chair, running a hand through his hair a short moment as he felt his temples as a way to unwind. He had some planning to do.

Later on that night, Jeff laid awake contemplating his little travel plan. Laureen and Malachi had laid out an air mattress for him in the living room, to the side of the no longer boarded up window. Malachi told him to get some rest, and he had tried- he really did. But, even with his rag over his eyes, he still couldn't sleep. The most useful thing he could do in this state was go over his plan and think through anything that might go wrong. Most situations that he could think of ended with Laureen getting them caught. He sighed, trying to put his mind at ease and drift off into unconsciousness.

He'd like to sleep, seeing as how he'd now be doing Malachi a big favor by taking Laureen to Arcos. But the more and more he stayed still, the less tired he felt, to the point of being irritable. Giving up, he lifted the rag off of his eyes, folding it and putting it into his pocket as he sat up. From his position, he could see Laureen on the couch, feet towards him (though they weren't in his field of vision) and head resting against a pillow on the arm rest. Memories of earlier conversations with her and Malachi came back to him, until he recalled the old man talking about the birthday presents he had gotten Laureen for her birthday.

He wondered briefly how old she was now. He wondered if she had been excited for her birthday, as he remembered being when he was younger. His birthday. Jeff couldn't remember his birthday; it wasn't something celebrated at Slender Mansion. He never aged, so why have a birthday? He tried to remember which month it was in, or where his party was thrown, or even what he had gotten from his family for his birthday. Each thought trailed back to remembering his neighbor's birthday party. Where he fought off the bullies that kept bothering them. Where he was set on fire.

He shook the thought away, standing up and walking past the couch. He stopped for a second to look back at Laureen, causing him to spot the ring on her finger, which was bent gracefully over her head. Laureen was strangely graceful when asleep, even if she wasn't when awake. That thought would have been considered weird to Jeff, had he not seen plenty of very ungraceful sleepers on his killings at night. Enough to recognize peaceful and non-peaceful sleepers, certainly, and clumsy sleepers. Graceful sleepers were uncommon to say the least, which is what had Jeff somewhat surprised by Laureen's lack of clumsy demeanor she seemed to have when awake.

Jeff looked Laureen's ring over again, noticing the little engravings on it. 'I wonder if that was one of Malachi's presents?' He thought. Malachi did engrave metal and such, after all. It wasn't too uncommon to give someone a present that was handmade. Of course, how Malachi actually molded the metal into the shape of a ring was beyond him. Jeff walked silently into the kitchen, sitting down sideways in his seat to stare at the wall he had practically memorized by now.

He thought about what might happen when Laureen got to Arcos. Scratch that, what would happen when their driver was murdered right in front of her? She would most certainly be against killing him. Jeff shook his head lightly. It didn't matter what Laureen thought. She needed to get a little killing out of her system, and Acros is the best place to do it without feeling like a horrible person (apparently). Though, he didn't really understand why both Malachi and Laureen had so much empathy for 'innocents' who died. They were just random people.

He especially didn't understand why Laureen would feel bad for the people she herself killed. Or even the people he killed, on that note. Or really, any random person who died. It wasn't her being killed, hell, it wasn't even her family or friends being killed! So why would she care so much? She didn't even know the people. He laid his forehead on the cold wooden table, groaning a bit. Why did this have to be complicated? There's no reason for him to make it so complex! Just a little criminal killing spree, nothing too bad. Surely Laureen would at least be okay killing criminals? He'd take care of their driver. She'd be mad, but get over it eventually. 'And this is why I work alone.' Jeff thought.

"All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel." Jeff heard the quiet verses pierce through his aggravating thoughts in a brash voice, and he lifted his head up from it's place on the table. "Monkey thought it 'twas all in good fun." The voice continued, and Jeff quickly deduced that the singing was coming from beneath the table. He stood up, reaching under the table with an irritated expression. "Pop! Goes the- ow! Hey!" The voice got louder as Jeff grabbed a tuff of hair, forcefully pulling the person out from under the table. "Ow! Hair! Hair!" The man said, in his brash and slightly scratchy voice, trying to free himself from Jeffery's grip.

Jeff let go, watching the man slowly stand up. He was a clown in black and white clothing, black suspenders over his chest and feathers on his shoulders. Bandages where wrapped around half of each of his hands, like fingerless gloves, revealing long fingers with claws attached to the ends. The clown had a cone-shaped nose, stripped in black and white, and ghostly white skin that was nearly turning gray.

His name was Laughing Jack, a fellow proxy, who went by the nickname LJ to Jeff and everyone at Slender Mansion. Jack had messy black hair, down to his neck, unmanaged and sticking up in several places. He smiled, showing off his razor sharp teeth. "What are you doing here? You blab one word to Slender and I'll slit your throat." Jeff said threateningly. He knew Slender would kill him for being with....was 'mortals' the right word to use? Jack laughed a bit. "Won't tell a soul." He said, voice deep. His voice sounded raspy and smooth at the same time, which is why it was always so confusing to hear him talk, though his voice was clearly quite brash.

Jack was very tall, much taller than Jeff, but then again, he was taller than nearly everyone. He walked with a bit of a hunch, as if constantly afraid he was an inch away from hitting his head on something. At the moment, He would have definitely hit his head on the light hanging from the ceiling had it not been over the table. Jeff was about to start talking to the clown again, but Jack's eyes shifted to look past him, smirking and tilting his head. Jeff turned around, following Jack's gaze to Laureen.

Laureen was afraid, of course, but tried not let it show, even as every fiber of her wanted to scream or attempt to run. Instead, she raised her crowbar to the monochrome clown in her kitchen, feeling more confident and dangerous that way. This raised a chuckle from the clown, who suddenly extended his arm and tried to rip the crowbar from Laureen's hands. Jeff tried to swipe Jack's hand away from Laureen before it reached her, but missed, as the clown's arm moved too fast for Jeff to prevent it.

Laureen was stunned by the clown's ability, but it only made her grip her crowbar tighter. As the clawed hand rushed towards her, about to grab her weapon, Laureen got a familiar feeling. Fear, mixed with the adrenaline of the strange hand heading straight for her. She swung her crowbar, in almost in the same way she had the fateful night of her first kill. It felt all too natural. "Ah!" The clown made a small pained sound as the crowbar dug into his extending hand, which was now pinned thoroughly into the wall along with said crowbar.

Laureen blinked, almost as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, staring at the now bleeding hand attached to her crowbar on the wall. She pulled the crowbar away, and the clown hissed in pain as his arm shrank back to a normal size. He looked to Jeff with an unreadable expression, and the teen raised a brow. "What? What'd you expect was gonnna happen?" He said. The clown stared for a moment, before laughing a little and turning to Laureen. "Haha. A fighter, huh? That's good." He said, holding his hand and trying his best to give a genuine smile.

The smile was a little too good, almost heartwarming, and Laureen felt guilty for hurting him. "W-who are you?" She asked. "This is Laughing Jack. He's...a friend, I guess." Jeff answered, glaring at the clown. "Just call me LJ." Jack corrected. He then noticed Jeff's glare. "What?" He muttered, making Jeff face-palm. "Why did you attack her?" He asked calmly. "I was only gonna take the crowbar! She looked about ready to charge me with that thing!" LJ defended, wincing at his hand. Jeff sighed in aggravation.

Laureen was still rather confused, but still had her manners. "I can...uh, get you bandages for that." She said, holding her crowbar tightly for some sort of comfort. Jack laughed. "Thanks, I'd appreciate it, since you kind of drove that thing through my hand." He said, smiling to her. She rushed out, heading towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. Jack turned to Jeff. "Who's the chick?" He asked. "Laureen Pitch. I'm pretty sure she's one of us. Or, at least, turning into one of us." Jeff replied. "How are you so sure?" LJ asked. "Well, she's going through that weird feeling you get when you haven't been killing. It's gotten really bad recently." Jeff explained.

"So, just take her to the mansion."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"There's...no reason to until I have proof. I'm taking her to Arcos with me soon. She's going to kill some kidnappers there."

This made Laughing Jack smile a creepy, toothy smile, and he chuckled a little. "Sounds fun. Lucky you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, those two traveling? That can't be good....:-P  
> Also, LJ's first appearance! Yay! XD  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter; I loved writing it! :-)


	7. The Collector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how Laughing Jack's doing after that last chapter, shall we? ;-P

Laughing Jack now had a bandage quite similar to the one on his other hand. It wasn't unusual for Jack to have cloth wrapped around his hands, in fact, no one would ever suspect that the newer bandage was actually covering a wound. The wound itself didn't matter so much however, even though the crowbar the girl from earlier swung had pierced right through his hand. Unlike humans, Jack healed faster, so there was no need for things like stitches or surgery. That was one of his advantages, healing fast. But among the disadvantages was his height.

He had grown to hate how tall he was, frequently wishing he was shorter. Sure, it had it's advantages at times, but it was awkward looking down on everyone. Especially the kids, who would fear him at times simply because of how tall he was. Not that it wasn't amusing to see that reaction. Still, he was almost always a bit hunched over, and though his body was built to be more resistant than a human body, his back now ached when he stood straight. Still, he had no reason to hunch when he was alone in his carnival, like he was now.

He also didn't like his sharp teeth. He had no use for them! Sure, they were scary, and added on to his creepy appearance, but they served no purpose other than that. Some proxies, such as Eyeless Jack, had sharp teeth to eat human organs. It was understandable for them to have sharp teeth. But Laughing Jack had never really liked eating organs, and preferred sweet things, as a clown would. He rarely ever bit his victims, and preferred to use his claws for a clean cut. And it was horrible when he bit his tongue!

He twisted the lollipop in his mouth, the sweet candy blocking out his complaints. He tried turning his mind to the better things about himself. Though there wasn't much else that other proxies didn't have as well...wait no, that was a lie; he could teleport. Of course, it was different than Slenderman's teleportation, which was short and simple with no evidence left behind. When Jack teleported, he did so in a puff of black smoke, like some sort of carnival magic trick. The smoke did disappear after a few seconds, but was still a more grand exit than Slender's.

He had just teleported away from the cabin where Laureen, Malachi, and Jeff resided after chatting for a bit, and nearly giving the old man a heart attack. After catching on to the fact that Jeff didn't want them knowing about Slender Mansion, he explained that they ran into each other after a kill one day, and got chatting. Jeff added that they run into each other some what often now, and that's how they knew each other. It was all a lie of course, though they had actually run into each other once, but only once when it was unintentional.

Jack walked through his abandoned carnival, which he was allowed to keep due to certain arrangements Slenderman had made possible. The colors on the machines and attractions were faded with years of wear, to point where even the ground seemed to be a dim version of it's former look. The smell of blood and candy staining the tents was sickeningly sweet, and unpleasant to most. Jack rather liked the smell, but there were times it got to be a little too much. Like the feeling you get after eating nothing but candy all day.

In a puff of smoke, he was suddenly on top of the old ferris wheel, which had been stuck in the same position for years now. It was usually the place where he went to plan or think, though he had come here for the sole purpose of watching children blindly stumble through the abandoned theme park before. He could see the entire carnival from here, and he supposed it was his 'happy place', if it could be called that. He found himself wondering in the past if the other proxies had 'happy places', and in his curiosity, chose to find out. Most of those places, however, tended to be safe and secure, rather than defying death at the top of a carnival ride.

He wasn't even in a cart, but instead standing gingerly on top of the metal track at the top of the ferris wheel, hands in his pockets as he looked over his carnival. He could imagine what it must have been like, decades ago. Was it decades? It had to have been, right? Time wasn't something he fully understood, being a Jack-in-the-Box created for a child. He brushed the thought away, not wanting to think of it at the moment. There was a time when thinking of Isaac would bring him something close to sadness, but now the thought simply annoyed him.

Jack could feel his skin healing and closing under his bandage; it had become a rather common feeling to him. 'About time.' He thought, keeping the bandage on anyway. It was a style, and technically bad habit, that he had picked up at some point. He couldn't even remember where he picked it up from. He twirled the lollipop in his mouth again, and thought about the girl, Laureen. Yes, she was a proxy, she had to be. Or at least a proxy in the making. From what he understood, humans had a simpler sense of smell than his own. They never once picked up on any 'emotional sent' from anything he presented. Jack could smell it on Laureen the minute she stepped foot in that room.

Blood-lust, even if she wasn't aware of it, and that strange sweet smell he would never be able to place. She had displayed how capable she was at fighting. Jack looked at his hand, and chuckled a small bit. She needed work, but her aim was spot on, and she seemed to hit anything that rushed her out of killer instinct. Yes, yes, she was definitely a proxy. Jack tried to stifle his laughter. 'Proxy'. What a silly word! Though he knew what it meant, it was so close to 'pixie' he couldn't help but imagine Laureen with fairy wings and a magical wand. He let himself chuckle at that one.

He looked out over his carnival once again, keeping his balance on the metal track of the ferris wheel. It didn't matter, as he could always teleport himself before he fell to the ground, but it was good practice. He couldn't exactly poof around while he was killing, as it alerted the victim. He had to be light on his feet and have good balance to hide and keep himself still. Especially since he would usually hide up high, so children wouldn't find him. Then again, adults that he's had to hide from didn't tend to look up high either. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he happened to keep running into ignorant-

'Crrreeeaaakkk!'

The sound of creaking metal interrupted his thoughts. To his sensitive ears, it was clearly unmuffled, as if it wasn't trying to be hidden. It was sharp and swift, and repeated itself a few seconds after it's first occurrence. 'Is that the gate?' Jack thought to himself, purposefully stepping off the ferris wheel, teleporting in mid-air to a tent near the gate halfway through his fall. Peering through a hole in the tent (that he made just for this purpose), he saw what looked to be a teenager closing the gate behind her.

Her light brown hair was tied up in a tight ponytail, her hazel eyes looking intently in the way her flashlight was shining. She appeared to be wearing a school uniform, a white button-up shirt with a small logo on the chest, and a black and white plaid skirt. Small black shoes with white laces covered her feet, and a dark blue sweater with a school logo clearly stitched on it laid tied around her waist. She looked shaken, and she was breathing heavily. She was visibly trying to calm herself, so whoever she was running from wouldn't her wouldn't hear her breathing.

"There she is!" a female voice rang out, with several others following in shouts and cheers as they neared the gate. The girl backed away from the gate, then bolted in the other direction. Jack took a look at the group of kids now nearing his gate. Punk teens, hair bleached and dyed, cigarette burns on their clothes. They smelled strongly of fire- maybe they started one to smoke around or something. The school girl was gone, out of sight, as the punk kids made it through the gate. Agh. Teens. There's no way he'd let them into his perfect carnival. He'd be sure to get the running one soon.

Jack laughed slightly and teleported in front of them, the poof of smoke causing them to stop in their tracks. The smoke cleared rather quickly, revealing the monochrome clown that towered over them with a terrifying grin on his face. "And where do you think you're going? The candy stand?" LJ asked, breaking out into maniacal laughter. He couldn't help it; the expressions on these teen's faces were priceless! Their eyes, already wide with horror, widened even more and a few even began to tear up.

One screech of fright from the girl in front was all it took to set them all off. Screaming, the lot ran back out through the gate, but not before Laughing Jack caught one of them, his long arm extending even further as it wrapped around the goth-looking young man. The teen let out another scream, watching the unnatural arm coil around him and prevent him from leaving. His eyes watered as he was pulled into the air, now at level with Laughing Jack's face. Tears escaped the boy's eyes as Jack stopped smiling. The boy's expression wasn't even amusing anymore.

Teenagers were so very annoying to him. Rebellious and ignorant, they never listened and were skeptical about everything. Even the human teens that Slenderman recruited could be like that, especially Jeff, who was more human than he thought he was. He stared at the teen for all of two seconds before the boy started to sob, helpless and weak, paralyzed and grieve-stricken by fear. He thought he was going to die any minute now, just waiting for the freaky clown to scratch him, crush him, stab him, or bite him with those ridiculously sharp teeth.

Jack rolled his eyes, grabbing the boy's face, making sure not to dig his nails into him (as that would leave evidence). "Look at me, you stupid kid." He said, voice drained of amusement. The boy continued to sob, not bothering to try to see through his tears. "I said LOOK AT ME." Jack roared in the boy's face, causing the boy to shudder and widen his eyes, pupils fixed on the terrifying sight in front of him. "Good. Lucky for you, brat, I'm not real interested in killing punk teenagers. You go back with your little friends. When they tell your weak little police force about it, you'll confess that your whole little pathetic team was doing drugs and hallucinating. Do you understand?" Jack said.

Jack wasn't in the mood to have his amusement park searched, even if there was a very slim chance the police would believe the other kids. Doing this ensured the peace he desired in his park, and that these kids would never be back, even though he was certain they were all wastes of human flesh. The teen couldn't believe his ears, mouth open in surprise and mind going blank. "Do you understand?" The monochrome clown asked again. The boy worked his mouth once, not able to get any words out, but instead a very small sound that was nearly inaudible.

The monochrome clown trapping the teen was getting very angry with the pathetic sight in front of him. "F***ING ANSWER ME!!! SPEAK YOU STUPID LITTLE KID, OR SO HELP ME I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT NOW!" Laughing Jack yelled, voice thundering and arm tightening around the boy. "I-I understand!" The boy replied, voice shaky and cracking, throat dry as he spoke. Jack released the kid as soon as he said that, dropping him to the ground without a care. "Get out of my park." He said, with a certain aggravation to his tone.

The boy scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could, resulting in tripping halfway to the gate. Laughing Jack groaned and face-palmed his forehead at the pathetic sight. Jack's other hand lifted the boy over the gate and dropped him onto the ground once again, closing the gate that the punks from earlier couldn't be bothered to shut. The boy once again scrambled away, running as fast as his feet would take him. Jack looked towards the direction the schoolgirl went. Great, now he'd have to waste his time tracking down some frightened girl. Just a perfect way to pass his time.

Jack teleported himself to the top of his ferris wheel, hoping to get a glance of the girl running through his maze of tents. Nothing. He sighed. "A wild goose chase. Great, just what I needed." He muttered. He began teleporting around his tents, starting at the end of his park. Meanwhile, the hunted girl was holding her dead flashlight to her chest and shaking ever-so-slightly from the cold air of the amusement park. She had put her sweater on a few moments ago, but it didn't help her legs, barely covered with the skirt she was wearing, only sheltering everything above her knees.

She was sitting in the corner of a faded tent, huddled up to stay warm. She had nearly collapsed when she found a tent to hide in, dropping to the ground and trying to become invisible. The corner was covered in shadows, providing at least some sort of hiding place. Still, it was cold in the shadow. Then again, it was cold tonight anyway. The girl had been chased away from her school, by a certain clique made of punk kids that always skipped to go do drugs or smoke (both things she had been warned against doing).

They all looked so angry, and the girl was shocked when they surrounded her as she was walking to her friend's house to have a sleepover; it was Friday after all. The teens, most of them a bit older than her, demanded she 'pay up' for what she did at her Jujitsu tournament. She viewed this as very unfair; everyone knew she was at the top of her class this year! It's true she accidentally broke a punk girl's arm, but the girl should've been prepared for her moves! Yet, the punk was constantly fazed and an easy target, only having a few good hits the entire time. The hazel-eyed teen remembered looking around at the kids surrounding her.

The boys clearly spent time at the gym, or fighting, to get those muscles. The girls looked cold and dangerous, on their toes and ready to pounce at any moment. Quickly, and with good footing, she ran to one of the younger girls, knocking her out of her way (as she was half her weight). She then ran until she thought her legs would burn off, and desperately looked for a place to hide, her eyes landing on the tents inside this amusement park. Which led her to this point, cold and hiding in the dark of a dusty old tent.

She breathed on her hands, trying to warm them up a bit. She stared ahead, not focused on anything in particular. Her eyes traveled from object to object as if she were reading the pages of a book, taking in her surroundings slowly. This was one of the smaller tents, striped with orange and red, and nearly empty, with the exception of a few pieces of paper trash. There were old broken cotton candy machines, and a cracked popcorn machine close to her. It seemed to just be for storage; no bleachers for the audience or cleared space for the entertainment.

The girl laid her flashlight on the ground, and it gave a small spark of light before the battery died. In that spark of light, her eyes fell on the dust molecules floating in the air. Behind those, on top of a popcorn machine, was something small and shiny that naturally caught her attention. Her eyes gleamed in the shine of the metal object, slowly crawling forward and out of the shadow. She stood, walking over to the machine, footsteps seemingly much louder than usual, though there was also usually a mat muffling them if she was purposefully being quiet before a fighting match.

She looked at the top of the popcorn machine, which was about as tall as herself. She reached down and picked up the shining thing, holding it up to her eye. A charm, that looked like it used to belong to a necklace, shaped like a key. It was covered in fake small pink diamonds, one of which was missing. She twirled it between her fingers, observing the way it glittered in the small rays of moonlight that shone through the open tent. After a moment, she stepped away to explore the tent a little for a better hiding place, shoving the charm in her sweater pocket.

She was a bit of a hoarder, and loved collecting things, so of course she would take a pretty little charm that no one wanted (or perhaps lost years ago, in which case they were long dead). As she stepped, she heard a crunch under her feet. She looked down, lifting her foot. It was a chain- presumably to the charm she had, to make it a complete necklace. "Oh." She whispered, smiling as she bent down and dusted off the chain until it was free from the dirt on the uncovered ground. She stuck that in her pocket also, continuing trough the machines, slightly faster as she reminded herself that the punks could be running into the tent at any moment.

She found a small opening in the machines, and crawled between it into a whole cove of them, with a small place for her to sit. The machines were tall near the back, so they towered over her. As she moved to sit, her foot hit one of the front machines that she hid behind. "No, no, no, no, no!" She muttered, reaching forward in a panicky manner as she caught the machine. Sighing in relief, she pulled the light machine back on it's iron feet. Flipping her ponytail back behind her, her eyes fell on another shiny object.

Leaning to the side, she picked up a gold ring, with a gorgeous little white gemstone in the middle. "How beautiful!" She said softly, admiring the stone in the middle. As she observed, she reminded herself that she was still actively trying to keep herself hidden, and probably shouldn't be talking at all. Her phone vibrated in her other pocket, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She quickly answered it on instinct, but then realized how stupid that was, since her quiet talking might alert whoever was on the other line. Then again, staying silent wouldn't do her any good, either.

"H-hello?" She answered, voice lowered to a soft pitch. "Elise! Where in the world are you?! I've looked all around the school, the park, at the house, where have you been?! Are you alright?!" An older female voice rang from the other side of the phone. The girl winced slightly at the loudness of the voice. "Ummm...I'm sorry, Aunt Liz, but remember those sketchy kids we saw smoking outside the Jujitsu building?" Elise replied, voice lowered still. The voice on the other end went silent.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was dangerous and sharp. "Did you fight those kids?" Aunt Liz asked. "No, no! I didn't! I...got chased away from the school. I'm hiding right now, so I need to keep quiet." The girl explained, nearly whispering now.

"Hiding?! Where are you? I'll come get you!"

"I'm at that abandoned carnival by Shellsinger Drive."

"All the way down there?! How long did they chase you for?!"

"...A little while."

"Don't worry, Elise, I'll be there soon! Just stay put!"

With that, the phone was hung up on the Aunt's end. Elise slipped her phone back into her pocket, eyes falling back on her shoes as she let herself sit flat on the ground, knees pulled up to her chin. She ran the events of her day back over in her head, wishing that she hadn't needed to stay so late for her tournament. Then these punks she wanted nothing to do with wouldn't be after her right now. Elise was unaware that the kids no longer searched for her, or that the very creature that shooed them away was right outside of her little hiding place.

Not being able to see the clown, who was crouching as to not be seen over the machine silently, she remained where she was. Laughing Jack, with his sensitive hearing, picked up on the loud, distressed voice on the other end of the phone. Elise. This was the name of the girl who ran from those pathetic punks, into his park of all places, for a hiding place. Humans were so annoying at times, having to fight over every little thing until they were satisfied, if they were ever satisfied at all. Some of them, like this one, practiced physical fighting as a passion.

Physical fighting was much better, as Jack could relate to it, having seen Jeff and the others fight. Of course, he occasionally fought seriously himself, but human kids aren't too terribly strong or even intimidating. Elise was a teenager who apparently practiced a fighting style called 'jujitsu'. Where do they come up with these silly names? Well, if he asked her, he'd probably just get a whole lot of screaming as a response. In any case, 'Elise' was just another teen who had no reason to be in his carnival. This one was no where near the entrance as well, so should he just kill her? The Aunt on the other line would undoubtedly call those annoying authorities though... 

Jack was a bit surprised when his hand came down on a sheet of trashed paper on the ground, the crinkling sound alerting the teen just on the other side of the machine. Elise held her breath without realizing it, thinking one of the punk kids from before made it into the tent. Jack stayed still for a moment, realizing he had alerted Elise. He didn't care about her; he rarely ever cared for teenagers in general, besides his fellow proxies of Slenderman. But he wouldn't have any fun killing her, since teens dying never gave him the thrill he got when hunting and killing defenseless children.

He knew he was twisted, as other proxies would say- 'even more twisted than them', but he didn't care. He didn't want to kill adults or teenagers, just as he didn't want to kill Elise, though he didn't pity the girl. She must have done something to make those annoying punks chase her, anyways, no teenagers are good people. As Jack sat there contemplating how to go about the situation (he really wasn't in the mood to hear the pathetic screams of another teenager), Elise sat breathing shallowly on the other side of the machine.

Her eyes were wide, glued to her shoes, and she was shaking slightly. There was no way it was one of those punks- they wouldn't have stepped so lightly into the tent. They certainly wouldn't have been silent, either. It wasn't one of them. Maybe someone else came to hide in the tent? Or maybe it was another person waiting to hurt her when she came out of hiding? Her darn good conscious wouldn't let her shake the idea that it was another kid hiding from the enraged punks, or worse. She couldn't muster up the courage to speak, so she instead dug into her wallet and pulled out a pen, picking up a piece of paper (they were everywhere in here) off the dirty ground.

Laughing Jack heard shuffling, and he became curious as to what Elise was doing. Before long, he got an answer, as Elise slipped a folded piece of paper underneath the machine. On it were the words 'Are you out there?' in blue ink, with the pen rolling out alongside the paper. Jack blinked, completely still. He hadn't expected her to do that, of all things. Was she an idiot? Meanwhile, Elise was mentally kicking her brain for doing something so stupid, grabbing her hair in utter disbelief. She was beyond shocked when she got a reply, passed under the machine with the pen.

'I am.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Laughing Jack's character! It's so much fun! :-D  
> Anyways, I hope you all liked this chapter! Leave a comment telling me if you'd like LJ's side of the story more often or less often. :-)  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. A Human Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back with what happened after the deranged clown left the scene, plans regarding leaving for Arcos, and another little look at Laureen's favorite detective show. Afterwards, the story continues with Elise and Laughing Jack...

Laureen was left staring at the black dust on the ground left behind by the smoke, which dissolved into thin air a minute later. Malachi, who was now leaning against the wall, had just been talking to the monochrome clown along with everyone. Soon enough, just after they were starting to get comfortable speaking to Jack, they exchanged their goodbyes. Jack had been surprisingly polite given his appearance. He even added Laureen that she would be a great fighter with some practice (which she supposed was a compliment). After that, he disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

Laureen was shocked, clueless as to how the clown had just disappeared. Being someone who frequently heard of impossible cases being solved, enjoyed puzzles and crime shows, and lived with someone very logical, she believed there was an answer for everything. A logical answer. But she, of course, couldn't explain Laughing Jack's teleportation, which seemed to just be magic all on it's own. 'Yeah right. I've seen magic shows with that stunt- falling through the floor and such. I bet if I check the floorboards I'll find evidence. ...What a jerk, setting that up in someone's house.' She thought.

Malachi on the other hand, was not opposed to the idea of it truly being some sort of dark magic. The clown obviously wasn't human, and in Malachi's mind, whatever was not human did not have to fall into humanity's boundaries. Though it was very strange to see. Malachi looked over to Jeff after the clown disappeared to see his reaction, but Jeff was already used to seeing Jack teleport around, and was therefore unfazed. He walked out into the living room, past the stunned two, and sat on the couch. Malachi was still for a moment, seemingly thinking, before speaking. "Hey, wait, Jeffery! I had no idea you were friends with a killer clown!" He said, as if it were easy to say, as he followed Jeff into the living room at his own pace.

Laureen simply stood, watching the last bits of dust dissolve on the ground as she buried herself in thought, her eyes slowly going black. It was eerie-looking, her concentrated black eyes, but she paid no mind to that at the moment. She thought about Laughing Jack's arm...how it extended and reached out for her. His arms were already a bit longer than normal, but then again, what about him was normal? No, she can't be thinking like that right now. She had to find an explanation, some sort of reason why his arm extended, and why he could disappear. They were both just carnival tricks after all, how hard could they be to figure out?

"Laureen! Asylum just came on!" Malachi said, just loud enough for Laureen to hear from the connected kitchen. Laureen spun around to see Asylum's opening theme playing. She smiled, her eyes mixing with light blue and pink. She didn't need to worry about the clown right now. For the moment, she could just assume everyone who knew Jeff personally would be strange. The problem in her little theory was that 'everyone who knew Jeff personally' also included Malachi and herself. But she didn't think of it at the time, sitting down on the couch just as the episode started.

The camera was still angled on the pocket knife from the previous episode, and Alex snapped it open. 'You...you're lying. Max Bencher played a part in this, I know it!' Alex said, keeping the knife out of the woman's sight. The woman tilted her head, causing her earrings jangle. 'Oh? You seem rather confident, Alex.' The woman said, smiling viciously and looking amused. 'There's proof! The proof that you left behind at the office party.' Alex replied, eyes (or eye, in the case his hair was covering his other one) going dark with hate. The woman chuckled a bit. 'I left evidence?' She said, 'You should know very well I went in disguise- how could I leave evidence at such a trivial place?'

'Maybe your disguise wasn't foolproof. I knew it was you.'

'Oh really? So tell me then, while you're still playing detective, what did I leave behind?'

'I'm surprised you didn't notice. It was obvious.'

Alex's voice turned dark and emotionless, lunging forward on the last word. The woman wasn't expecting this, barley having any time to process the action before a pocket knife was buried in her stomach. Her eyes widened, and she coughed a bit out of the sheer force she was hit with. Alex was the only thing holding her up, and he continued to talk closer to her ear. 'The glass of wine you drank from? I thought ahead.' He said. A look of realization crossed the woman's face. Scenes of flashbacks came on screen, of the woman taking a wine glass from a seemingly cheerful and unsuspecting Alex.

The next flash was her finishing the wine, and then leaving. Afterwards, an unseen section of the episode played in the flashback. Alex took the glass with gloves, taking it to one of the detective desks to dust it, eyes cold. The scene went back to them, Alex holding the large pocket knife in place as a small trail of blood leaked from the woman's mouth. 'M-my...fingerprints, Alex?' She said, forcing a small pained laugh, 'I thought....I'd be more careful.' The woman tried to pull away from Alex, but he kept her in place, which only drove the knife into her further. She gasped, but stayed still for another moment.

Laureen's eyes were glued to the screen, watching in anticipation. Jeff was also watching, trying to appear uninterested, though he was failing miserably. Malachi almost laughed at the two watching the screen so eagerly, waiting for every little scene. Eventually, the woman managed to pull away from Alex, a darker red staining over her dress, hand over her wound as blood spilled from her mouth. 'You won't get very far like that.' Alex said as the woman walked shakily away, towards her machinery, in pain. 'You're right, I won't.' She replied, forcing a smile as she turned around to see Alex, leaning on her machine to keep herself stable.

Alex took a step closer, but not any more than that. 'So, I suggest you give me some answers.' He continued. The woman smiled despite herself, a sad look in her eyes and a genuine look in her smile. 'Why give you answers when I can take them to the grave?' She asked, arm moving up further on the machine to support herself. 'Because you've given me hints before. Why not give me your last one?' Alex said. The woman laughed a bit, more blood coming from her mouth, dripping slightly at the corners of her lips.

'Fine, Alex. You've beaten me. So I'll give you a really good hint.' The woman said, pulling out a handgun from her machinery, which was hidden throughout the small opening in the wiring. Alex was immediately alerted by this, but widened his eyes in surprise when the woman pointed the gun at her own head. 'You'll recognize it, trust me.' She said. Shakily, cringing a little as she lifted up her hand, she made a peace sign and smiled a wide smile. Laureen recognized it as the disturbing logo for one of the shops Max owned, that sold toy guns and fake Russian roulette games. The logo (named Pow) was a boy who held a fake gun to his head, smiling, holding up a peace sign.

Alex seemed to recognize it too, as a short flashback scene, sped up to avoid wasting time, showed him walking by a sign with that logo, and staring at it for a minute. Alex suddenly ran forward, knowing what the woman was about to do. 'Wait! Don't!' He said, getting closer to the woman as he ran. But he wasn't fast enough. The woman stopped mimicking the logo, smile shrinking but not fading, and her eyes went sad again. 'Sayonara, Alex.' She said, and pulled the trigger. 'No!' Alex called out, his words went unheard by the woman, who was collapsed dead on the floor.

He stood over the corpse, cursing at himself for letting her kill herself before he got some more information. Even in that bitterness, he couldn't bring himself to look at the face of the dead woman, and quickly left the building. He stood there for a moment outside of the warehouse, and then finally left to look for Max's toy gun shop. Laureen was still watching as the rest of the episode passed by, even though the exciting part was over. It was basically Alex running around with clues he found from the toy shop the whole time. He didn't really get much further though.

As the ending music started playing, Jeff sat back and thought about how cliche' some scenes were. It was, in his opinion, not a very good show, but rather just captured your attention enough to be addictive. Neither teen had noticed Malachi leave his seat and start to cook dinner. Jeff stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen to the sound of a few pots and utensils being shifted around. "Mal...about...uh, Arcos." Jeff said, knowing that Laureen was more awake and aware than earlier. "What about it?" Malachi answered.

Laureen, in the other room, was pretending to listen to the ending song still playing on the television. In actuality, she was listening in on the conversation in the kitchen. Lately ('lately' being for the last month), she began to listen in on Malachi's conversations over the phone, for no particular reason. It was something she felt was necessary to do, as if one conversation could send her whole home tumbling. And, in a way, it could. One wrong person and Malachi might lead the police right to him. Whether she listened now out of habit or distrust towards Jeff, she wasn't sure.

"Well...we'll have to leave tomorrow, since I can't be away for too long. Other than that, this is still crazy. You know she'll stubborn and refuse to go, anyway." Jeff said, lowering his voice to a whisper. This alarmed Laureen. She couldn't hear what Jeff had said, but just him lowering his voice gave her the feeling he was hiding something, or maybe plotting with Malachi. In a way, she wasn't wrong.

"I'll make sure to talk to her." Malachi answered, voice also in a whisper. Jeff sighed. He really didn't want to go through the trouble of getting to Arcos with Laureen, but he felt like he owed Malachi in some way. He still didn't want to agree with this. Though..the more he considered it, the more he thought about Laureen, and how this might turn her into a killer; even a proxy, at that. It couldn't hurt to help push her over the edge a bit. 

*Back at Laughing Jack's carnival*

Elise stared at the note for a few minutes, observing the shaky, unpracticed handwriting. Who wrote this? They obviously weren't attacking her, and they took the time to write back. Maybe they also hiding from someone? She reached out to her paper, and wrote, in neat writing, 'Why are you here?' and passed it back under the machine with the pen. Laughing Jack read the note once again, restraining himself from chuckling. This was oddly amusing!

Elise watched as the note and pen were both passed back under the machine, with the words 'I live here.' scribbled under her question in the blue ink of the pen. She felt a bit shocked, and confused. This person lived at the carnival? Were they homeless, and just making due with this old place? She wrote back.

'Are you homeless?'

'No, this is my home.'

'Who are you?'

'I'm Jack.'

'What's your full name?'

'Jack.'

Elise was once again met with that feeling of shock and confusion. Did this boy (presumably boy, by the name) really not have a surname? Maybe he was left here at the theme park? Was he abandoned at a young age? Did he run away, and was now bitter about his name? Why was he at the carnival, of all places? This growing confusion only unearthed more questions the more she thought of it. She began to write out her reply. 'My name is Elise.' She wrote. There was no reason not to be polite, right?

'I know.' The response, yet again, shocked and confused her. Meanwhile, Jack was trying not to laugh at her noticeable pause. It only lasted a few moments, before the sound of pen tracing paper returned. 'How do you know?' The note came back with those words, and Elise seemed to cast uncomfortable aura. 'I overheard the voice on the phone.' Laughing Jack responded honestly, and slipped the paper and pen back under the machine. He took that moment to ask himself why was he wasting his time with this.

Though quickly, his own thoughts answered him like it was obvious. Because he had all the time in the world to waste! He was usually bored here in the carnival, and didn't always feel like killing. He obviously didn't have a television or any electronics, so this was entertaining to him, and even a bit compelling. In other words, Laughing Jack was acting like a kid passing notes in school and had no idea. Elise let out a small sigh of relief from the other side of the machine. 'You scared me for a minute.' She wrote, and then passed the paper under the machine.

Jack let out a small chuckle at the note, mostly because he couldn't contain it. Elise heard him, surprised at the deeper voice it displayed. In her mind, she hadn't considered the person behind the machine to be older than herself. 'Okay.' Was the only response to her note, passed back between the iron legs of the machine once again. She thought for a minute, then continued the discussion.

'How old are you?'

'Older than you.'

'How old?'

'I'm not sure, but to me, you're pretty small.'

Elise blinked. Jack spoke kind of like a child, if she was judging him by his writing. Maybe he really was abandoned here at a young age? Though she shouldn't jump to conclusions like that. He could very well be at the carnival for the same reason she was. That thought reminded herself why she was hiding, which influenced the next question she wrote, this time for her own well-being.

'Are the other teenagers gone?'

'The ones chasing you are gone.'

Elise sighed in relief. "Well, then, this is silly." She said quietly, leaving the paper where it had been passed from under the machine. "I might as well come out of hiding then, don't you think-...Jack?" The paper was swiped hastily back under the machine with the pen, with Elise unaware that she would have seen Laughing Jack's long claw scraping it across the ground if she had looked a second earlier. 'Don't leave!' was scribbled across two lines on the page. Elise blinked, but then a kind smile made it's way to her face, though Jack couldn't see her.

"Oh...I'm not leaving, Jack. I'll just come out to see you, alright? I'm sure Aunt Liz will help you out." She said. When no response came back, she stood up and walked around the machine. There was no one there. She blinked once, then twice, knowing she hadn't imagined all that. "...Jack?" She said, looking for any footprints in the dirt ground. All that was there was a bit of strangely colored dust, and a black feather. Elise raised an eyebrow in confusion, crouching down and picking the feather up with two fingers to observe it closer.

It didn't look natural, clearly not from a bird. It was a fake feather, like that of what you'd find on a costume. Still, there was a small pattern of dark grey that criss-crossed through the black of the feather on the underside. As strange as it was, the soft black feather was somewhat enchanting to look at, especially for a pack-rat like herself. "Jack?" She said again, putting the feather in her wallet and looking around the small area a bit. After a couple minutes, she concluded that all the places someone taller than her could hide were empty. Elise picked up her dead flashlight, and cautiously stepped outside the tent.

"Jack?" She repeated, looking down the pathway in both directions. Maybe he heard something and ran? Or maybe he just didn't want to be seen? She started walking to her right, trying to figure out where the path led in the maze of old tents. Though there was no real path through the tents, as they were too randomly placed to be leading to anything, a trail became noticeable the closer she got to the entrance. Surprisingly enough, she hadn't gone into a tent too far from the gate. It had definitely felt further than it actually was when she was running away from those other teens.

Near the gate, already walking down the path with a worried expression, was her Aunt Liz. She was a short woman, as tall as Elise, with a great complexion for her age of 35. She had brown hair, surprisingly similar to Elise's, and soul-filled light brown eyes, a few faint freckles dotting her tan skin on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was wearing a teal silk blouse and jeans, tan sandals on her feet. "Elise! Are you alright?" She said, running to the girl and hugging her. "I'm alright, Aunt Liz, don't worry. Those other guys left after you called." Elise replied, hugging her back, then letting go as Liz pulled away.

"Oh, good. I didn't want you picking a fight." She said. Elise huffed a bit. "I could have taken them on...but there were lots of them. If only there were less, I'd just give them a fair warning and be on my way. I hate hiding." She said, crossing her arms as her eyes trailed over to a nearby tent. "Oh, Elise. Kids like that always have groups. Even if there were only a few, you'd send the whole group after you by hurting them." Liz explained, moving to Elise's side so she could walk her to the car.

"I guess you're right, but-" Liz cut Elise off. "But nothing! You know I'm right. Come on, let's get you home." She said, going through the open gate (she hadn't closed it upon coming in) of the carnival. Laughing Jack was watching through that tear in his tent he had looked through before as Liz shut the gate and led Elise out to the black Honda parked in front of said gate. 'Well, there goes my little pen pal.' He thought miserably. He was actually having a bit of fun, d**n it! He sighed. 'Oh well.' He thought to himself.

He teleported to the top of his tent, sitting on the roof (if it could even be considered a proper roof, made of fabric with several tears in it) and staring up at the night sky. The stars shone brightly, though they were barely seen through the cumulus clouds that naturally followed the cold air tonight. From what Laughing Jack understood, humans tended to find stars rather amazing and beautiful. While he agreed that they were a pretty sight, he had never been fascinated with them. And now, they just bored him. He saw them every night, after all.

Before long, he was lying upside-down, head and shoulders leaning off of the roof as he looked ahead at another tent. His arms were crossed and his knees were up, with no fear of falling off. He then heard the all-too-familiar squeak of his gate. "Again?" He grumbled to himself under his breath, opening his eyes to look at who was passing into his carnival this time. His eyes fell on the Link look-alike, BEN Drowned, one of the only other proxies he truly got along with. The short blonde elf boy came up to him, eyes black with red pupils as always, bleeding from the constant unnatural strain.

"What'cha doing, LJ?" He asked, facing Laughing Jack a few tents away even though the clown was upside down. "Booorrreeddd." Jack replied dramatically, throwing his arms to the ground as well. BEN chuckled. "I'm bored too. Wanted to ask if you'd come help me with this one kid." He said, rocking back on his heels. "No, I don't feel like killing right now. Besides, you usually go for teenagers." Jack explained, teleporting out of his position on the roof of the tent to stand in front of the boy, shoulders slumping slightly.

BEN was already short, and standing beside the tallest proxy only exaggerated that fact. He barely reached Jack's rib cage as it was, and had to look almost straight up to talk to him, much like a small child would have to look up to an adult. If BEN were human, this would probably get on his nerves a lot more than it did now. Sure, he would like to be a bit taller, and it sometimes actually hurt his neck to look up for too long. Other than that, there was no real reason for him to be tall. Inhuman murderers tended to think of what was more effective, and what they actually needed, not just what looked scary.

BEN killed from inside a computer, cursing his victims or driving them insane, and occasionally stuck half his body out of the screen to frighten or lash out. In fact, none of his victims would even know he was short unless he did the creepy 'suddenly appearing by the bedside' thing, which actually consisted of him crawling awkwardly out of the computer and onto the ground, trying not to wake his victim, only to wake them up a few minutes later when he was waiting with a full-fledged grin at their bedside. While it was effective, it sometimes did not end with the desired result.

He locked eyes with Jack, trying to appear serious. "You know, LJ, you haven't killed much this week. Slender's wondering why." He said. Jack snorted in an amused way. "Is that the reason you came here? Tell him I'm fine, I've just been more careful with my killings lately." He said, turning around to take a short walk through his carnival, expecting BEN to teleport away via the old telephone lines just outside the gate. But, to his surprise, BEN grabbed his arm to get his attention. He turned partly to him, just enough to see him.

"I saw those girls drive away. You just let them leave?" BEN asked. "They didn't interest me. Besides, they were older and would've been no fun to kill. They didn't see me, so of course they left." Jack answered simply. BEN let go of the clown's arm. He had a feeling Jack wasn't telling him something, but he had no reason to intrude on that. Besides, half the time, Laughing Jack had that aura around him anyway. "I still don't get why you won't kill teens." BEN said. Jack chuckled. "It's not that I don't, it's that I don't want to." He replied. BEN shrugged, dismissing the subject. 

"So, not killing tonight?"

"I already have."

"No blood on you?"

"Cleaned up. I don't like being dirty, thanks."

Laughing Jack grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. BEN stayed quiet for a moment, trying to detect any lie in the clown's bright, sky blue eyes. His eyes were a bit too bright, brighter than usual, as if he was genuinely amused. Then again, they always looked bright, since they were the only thing in color on the monochrome clown. "Right, why is that? A little blood never hurt anyone." BEN joked. Jack chuckled a bit. "I swear, LJ, if you didn't hate them you'd wear an apron or something to keep your clown outfit clean." BEN said, laughing a bit. Jack rolled his eyes, still grinning.

"Yeah, yeah. You should go back to the mansion." He said. "Hmm..I don't know...you have a lot of teenagers being wasted over here. This place is a magnet, I swear." BEN said sarcastically. Jack chuckled, and extended his arm. "Get out of here, shrimp." He said jokingly, picking up BEN by the collar of his tunic and stretching his arm to put the elf in front of the gate. "I'm not a shrimp!" BEN playfully called as Jack's hand opened the gate, then shrank back to it's normal size. "Close the gate on your way out!" Laughing Jack said, waving his hand over his head lazily as he walked away, in something like a 'goodbye'.

BEN did as he was told, closing the tall gate as he left, thinking back over their conversation as he did. There was no reason to intrude on LJ's privacy, but he did seem a bit suspicious in BEN's eyes. The girl must have been there for a while, since she had to call her sister or whoever that was to come pick her up. It would take the older girl a little while to get there, especially with the bad traffic he saw in the street lights on the way over to the carnival (through the wires, of course). So what was Laughing Jack doing at the time?

Jack hated teens coming into his carnival (usually they were playing that stupid 'truth or dare' game), so why wouldn't he just kill the girl to get rid of her, or frighten her away at the least? Did he really just 'not feel like killing'? Somehow, that seemed like complete bull***t to BEN. He had noticed something off about the girl, as if she was a bit too comfortable at the spooky carnival. Of course, Laughing Jack couldn't have just decided to be friendly with her and let her go after she saw him, right? That girl was obviously not a delinquent, which meant people might actually go and search around if she said she saw a killer clown inside the theme park.

Not only that, but it violated Slenderman's rules to interact with a human in such a way. Even if Laughing Jack was rarely in the Mansion nowadays, he was still one of the many proxies under Slenderman's care. BEN then thought over what he had suggested as an answer to all this. LJ, of all people, interacting with an 'annoying and rebellious teenage brat'? Yeah right! Now that he thought over it, it seemed pretty silly. Jack didn't even like to kill teens if he could avoid it. BEN chuckled at himself a little, and shook his head, disregarding any suspicions he had of his fellow proxy.

Back inside the main black and white tent at the center of the carnival, Laughing Jack sat on the top row of the bleachers made for the audiences, staring out into the empty space below. He had no idea what he felt at the moment, as it was an uncommon blend of emotions that he didn't deal with very often. He didn't understand why he felt he needed to hide what happened from BEN, either. Jack was just playing around after all. It was just a bit of entertainment, nothing special. So why hide it?

Elise seemed a little strange, and she had a suffocatingly positive aura around her at nearly all times. She was a little different than any simple teenage brat, but then again, was indifferent as well. She wasn't anything special, at least not that Jack could see. The strange thing was the feel she carried with her. Jack could practically smell it like some kind of perfume. What was it? Optimism? Close, but not quite. Courage? No, no, not that either. Whatever it was, it was certainly strange.

Maybe it was just a general aura of stupidity, as it is different for strange teenagers. It had been an unsafe move on her part to pass a note under the machine. She would have been in trouble if it hadn't been Laughing Jack there, it was simply luck on her part....luck? Yes, luck, of course! That was what the aura surrounding Elise was- just good luck. Finally, that feel had a label on it; it was driving Jack up the wall. 'Why is that? She's just another teenager, after all. Nothing special. Is she really just lucky? And yet not lucky enough to avoid those punks?' He thought as he slumped in between the first and second row of the bleachers, the first row supporting his back and the second resting his legs.

Elise was certainly somewhat entertaining, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued about her 'jujitsu' stuff. Was it one of those movie fighting styles that BEN talked about? Was it like karate or something? Did they have black belts to earn, or were all students on the same level? If so, it didn't seem as though there were techniques for fighting off groups; wouldn't that be a problem? Or maybe Elise just wasn't skilled enough? He sighed, deciding not to think about it any more, as it was just stupid human stuff. Nothing that concerned him. Still, being in the carnival all the time, he had often caught himself wondering about many unrelated things.

...Even if he learned all there is to know about this 'jujitsu', it's not like he could go to a training building to practice. People, and even fellow murderers, came into his carnival somewhat often now, and he didn't want to risk being caught practicing something he had no need to practice. Not only would it be somewhat embarrassing, but he really had no need to practice jujitsu. He could defend himself just fine, it was a waste of time to learn a fighting technique he would never use. Then again, he wasted doing nothing but lounging around his carnival quite often.

He leaned his head back, resting it against the seat of the first row of bleachers and allowed his mind to go blank. He closed his eyes and folded both hands over his stomach, just lounging and relaxing. Only then, when he was still, did he realize that he was a little tired. As much sleeping on the bleachers probably wasn't a good idea, he couldn't bring himself to break the sleepy trance he was falling into. A thought crossed his mind briefly, of the paper Elise had left behind; it was the evidence of their conversation. He ignored the thought, and after a few minutes, fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I absolutely LOVE writing the clown!!! His character is so much fun to work with, you have no idea! XD   
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Your feedback is valued!  
> Thanks for reading! :-)


	9. A Dept Unpaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malachi's lovely little discussion with Laureen about going to Arcos with Jeff. (Lol- this can't be good).

"WHAT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! NOT A CHANCE!" Laureen yelled at Malachi, who was sitting in front of her at the kitchen table. Malachi had sat down with Laureen to discuss her going to Arcos a few minutes ago, and the arrangement was clearly going downhill. Jeff heard the outburst from upstairs, where he was patiently waiting for the conversation to be over. Well, now he was just sitting at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop, in order to hear Laureen's input on the situation.

Malachi winced slightly at the loud yell Laureen produced, then kept talking. "It'll be fine, Laureen! Come on, it's not that bad. They're a bunch of criminals kidnapping innocent children!" Malachi tried to convince her once again. Outraged, Laureen stood from her chair, glaring at Malachi and his proposition. "So what?! Just send Jeff out to do it! He seems more than capable!" Laureen countered, waving her hand to the side as she spoke to emphasize her words.

"You and I both know he isn't going to do that without a reason. He isn't exactly empathetic, Laureen."

"Well, give him a reason then!"

"I am! By sending you!"

"Give him a better one! I don't want any part in this!"

"Laureen-"

"I'm not going! I won't! I'm definitely not killing anyone, either! I don't care-"

"Laureen Isabelle Pitch! Calm down for a minute and listen to me!"

Malachi caught her attention that time, by using her full name and a parental tone. Laureen froze, eyes a bit wider and posture leaned forward in an accusing manner. Malachi sighed. "Now, Laureen, you know that the police in Arcos aren't exactly the brightest bunch. These criminals are right under their noses! You rant to me all the time about news reports you already knew would happen, and cases you already solved on those t.v shows you watch. You're good at this stuff, and you know that!" Malachi explained.

"There are too many criminals to just apprehend, and you know they have ways of escaping those jail cells. You know that you could catch them, you know that these culprits are terrible, and you know that all criminals leave clues behind, especially the ones that are no good at what they do. I know you'd sniff them out in no time at all." He said. Laureen felt a bit of guilt creeping up on her, and stood frozen, with one palm on the table. Not only had she elected not to care about something so terrible, but she also knew...Malachi was right.

It was true, she would probably find them rather quickly, due to all the evidence Malachi said they left behind. And it was true that the few apprehended criminals escaped in similar ways, and would continue to escape in any way possible. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was true that the easiest way to end their ways was to end their lives. Laureen slowly sat back down in her chair, looking down at the wooden table and not meeting Malachi's eyes. Confusion and anger welled up inside her, and she took a minute to simply think.

For two years, Malachi told her to move on from the murder she had committed. To move on from those three girls at the school. He said there was no reason for her to kill again, no reason to end up like 'the boy'. Why was Malachi suddenly going against this concept? Telling her to go kill criminals in a dangerous town away from home! With the very boy he claimed to be corrupted! Her eyes were a mixture of orange, teal, and red colors, swirling darkly as her thoughts turned paranoid.

Was Malachi trying to tell her something? She couldn't grasp what he may be trying to say. Or had Jeff gotten to him and convinced him to let Jeff take her back to Arcos? She couldn't imagine a reason why Jeff would do that. Maybe Malachi thought she needed to kill, like Jeffery seemed to? If that was the case, why did he think that? Was it only because her situation was similar to Jeff's? Or was there some other reason she wasn't seeing? Her thoughts were interrupted by Malachi's words.

"Well? You would be helping a lot of people." He said, tone calm and warm, seeming patient. Laureen thought for a moment, staring at a small scratch on the table. Before long, staring at it started aggravating her. She got a strange sick feeling when she looked at the scratch (there wasn't a single other one on the table) and looked away from it, back to Malachi. She thought over what Malachi said, and thought over what he'd asked of her. She thought about all the children being abducted in Arcos, and the terrible things the 'company' must be doing to them.

Laureen knew she could help. She had the means to help: the transportation, the permission, and the motive. All she needed now was to put this plan in action. Put the plan in action...could she really do that? Was it worth it? Technically, she'd be trading corrupted lives for the children's lives, right? But was it really worth having blood on her hands a second time? Murdering people a second time? Her hands, now by her side, curled into fists. No...this wasn't about her. This was about the children, and the other people being killed or sold off to terrible criminals like slaves.

'It's not about you, Laureen. It's not about you, it's about the kids. Would you help those kids if you could do something about it?' Laureen thought. Of course, her immediate answer if asked the same question would be 'yes'. But now that the choice was right in front of her, and just a few words of confirmation would make her answer a reality, she felt pressured and small. "I...I know the right thing to do would be to end it, of course. But I'm not sure if killing them is right..." Laureen finally answered, hands on her legs still curled into fists. She refused to meet Malachi's eyes, looking down at her knees.

Malachi gave her a sympathetic look. He knew he was asking a lot from her, and knew how hard it must be for the young girl to decide. He was aware of how much he was contradicting himself. He told Laureen after that incident two years ago that she had no reason to kill again, and that she didn't have to. She only recently truly got over the muder of those schoolgirls, and the time had been necessary due to how big of an effect her action took on her life. Malachi sighed and leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands folded together.

"Alright, how about this. Try capturing them one by one, or more if you can. I'll tell you now that it won't be easy; they're crafty and have ways of escaping almost every situation. So..if it's too much trouble...get rid of them." Malachi said, uncomfortable with his own suggestion but proposing it anyway. That caught Laureen's attention and her head snapped up, revealing the black, orange, and teal in her eyes, locking with Malachi's. Over the years, Malachi had learned to recognize the colors Laureen's eyes produced.

He knew that they turned teal when she was surprised, orange when she was confused, and black when she was in deep thought. She was silent, staring through him, and he waited patiently once again. Laureen was seriously considering this, thinking over it again and again, eyes turning darker as her thoughts grew more involved. Though in the end, after weighing the choices she had, it was clear. She knew what the 'right' choice was, as much as she was uncomfortable with it. Laureen took a deep breath, and finally gave her answer.

"Alright. Okay- alright -fine. I'll go, but I won't kill them." She said. Malachi nodded understandingly, thankful that she had accepted, though worried he was putting too much responsibility on her. At the top of the stairs, Jeff had to keep himself from scoffing. He knew Laureen wouldn't resist killing them if she felt confident, especially with that stunt she pulled the first time he came inside the cabin as evidence. Oh, well. He wasn't going to stop her if she did kill them. After all, even if she may be upset with herself afterwards, she'd have to get used to killing if she was going to become an actual proxy.

Back downstairs, a guilty feeling was crawling through Malachi's spine. He knew what he was doing was cruel. He knew that those criminals would be too hard to capture, and that it would annoy Laureen. He knew, from how the newspapers and other various sources described them, that the criminals tended to be rather cocky and witty, due to their countless victories against the authorities. And with Laureen's recent temper....the chance at least one of those guys wouldn't be killed was close to none. He was setting Laureen up.

The guilty feeling increased, until it seemed to weigh on his shoulders. He felt terrible about doing this, but also felt it was something that needed to be done. He certainly didn't want his 'daughter' going crazy due to these new symptoms, especially if the reason behind it was him pushing her not to kill. Therefore, in his mind, it was a twisted act of love for the benefit of Laureen. Other than that, it got Laureen away from the cabin for a couple weeks. There was something Malachi had to take care of with some customers...something that Laureen would never approve of.

After wrapping up the conversation with a few short words, he got up and left the kitchen, leaving Laureen sitting alone after patting her head lovingly on the way by. He walked up the stairs, exchange glances with Jeff on the way, and sat at his desk, thinking over his decision. 'It's for her own good. Jeff will be there to protect her, and she can shut down that horrible 'company', do Arcos a big favor! It'll be better without those criminals alive anyway. Besides, this way I can get my own business taken care of without her worrying.' He assured himself.

The words 'bad father' passed through his mind, cutting through what little self-assurance he had. He shook the thought away, and started carving into his metals. However, the whole time he worked, he could not get Laureen off his mind. What would she think of him when she came back? Would she be alright after...what was inevitably going to happen? Would she resent Malachi? Would she kill more often? Would she become just like Jeffery?! He pushed these thoughts away with more 'rational' thoughts.

No, she would never end up just like Jeffery. This whole thing was put into action in order to keep her sane, not drive her away from sanity. When she returned from Acros, Malachi would have a discussion with her if she was still upset. She would realize it was necessary, and go back to being her cheerful self, like she was before all of this tension set in around her. Yes, that's how it would work out. Why wouldn't it? Malachi was just being irrational before. There was no reason for Laureen to resent him if she understood that what he did was out of love.

These thoughts calmed Malachi, and he carved into the metals with a steadier hand, his gloves easily repelling the metal he scraped away. He thought about what it would be like telling Laureen to pack her things, and sending her off with Jeffery. He thought about how it would feel to see them leave for Acros, and to see the elevator taking them to the ground, where they would soon be on their way. He wondered if them going on this trip would cause Laureen to be less resentful towards Jeffery. He dismissed the thought, and tried to focus entirely on his work.

He thought about some of his customers, which led to the thought of Madam Conway, the needlessly bossy woman who demanded everything to be perfect, just as she envisioned it. 'I swear, that woman drives me up the wall! I only do business with her because the pay is good! In any other case, I'd have long cut ties with her by now!' He thought. Madam Conway also had ridiculous deadlines, either due to her fancy parties or her demanding nature. She was also talkative, insisting on having a conversation every time he went there, that would at times make him late for other customers. What a waste of time it was, talking to her. However, he didn't need to think of her right now. He just needed to focus on his work.

As Malachi was upstairs carving into his metals, Jeffery (who had gone down the stairs as the conversation ended, passing Malachi on the way) was walking into the kitchen. He saw Laureen, still sitting at the table, motionless. It was almost as if she were in shock, since that was the only thing Jeff could compare her expression to. She was staring straight ahead, and didn't turn to face Jeff as he walked in. It was almost like she was in deep thought, but her eyes were not black, as they were when she was thinking earlier. Instead, they were a stunning light gray, just a shade darker than the 'whites' of her eyes (which were left gray due to the poising).

For some odd reason, he felt awkward as she continued to stare straight ahead, as if he never even came into the kitchen. Though he was wrong, as she did hear him come in, and was aware of him behind her. He was right when he thought she looked shocked into stillness. Laureen didn't want to react to anything right now, and her mind was completely blank for the first time in her life. In an odd way, it was peaceful to Laureen. Peaceful and calm. It was as if she didn't have to care, didn't have to worry, and didn't need to say or do anything.

"Uh...hey. You should pack some clothes or something...Laureen? You listening?" Jeff said, walking to the other end of the table, straight into her line of sight. Well, since Laureen was sitting down, all she saw was the chest of his white hoodie as he stood there. "Hey! Earth to spacey! Laureen?" He tried again, sounding a bit aggravated. Laureen's eyes snapped up to his face, still gray and showing barely any hints of another color. "Did you get to him somehow? Where you the one who got this idea in his head?" Laureen asked calmly, her voice blank and lifeless.

Jeffery paused for a moment, and then raised his eyebrow. "What? Of course not! He came to me with that idea on his own! It's not like I want to be stuck dragging your a** around with me!" Jeff countered, feeling as though he was offended. Laureen's eyes widened a bit. She had never actually heard Jeff swear before, though she knew he was capable of it, and the word caught her a bit off guard. Though soon enough, her eyes went cold again. "So why are you doing this then? Why go along with it?" She asked.

Jeff was caught off guard this time, standing a bit straighter at the question, as if he were going to take a step back. He hadn't really expected her to question his reasons, since it was something Malachi wanted her to go along with. "I...I owe Mal a favor!" Jeff said defensively. "Oh yeah? Why? I can't recall anything from his stories that you'd have to repay him for other than shelter, and you wouldn't be willing to make such a long trip just for that." Laureen replied. "It's personal! How about you stay out of my business and go get packed? We're leaving early tomorrow!" Jeff growled, walking out of the kitchen.

What he wouldn't give to just stab this girl! It seemed as though she was getting more annoying by the minute! If she wasn't Malachi's daughter figure, Jeff would've killed her long before now. He sat on the couch, not bothering to turn the television on as he sorted out his thoughts. Why had he let himself get so riled up by Laureen anyway? He was actually helping the stupid girl! Why couldn't she see that? Surely she'd noticed the symptoms Malachi claimed she'd been having. No doubt she'd be coming out into the living room in a moment, and he'd have to face her again.

He didn't want that right now, as he was still aggravated. So he walked upstairs to the 'workroom', instantly spotting Malachi at his desk. Malachi spotted Jeff as well, looking at him from the corner of his eye. "Ah, Jeffery! What is it? You're not usually up here." Malachi said, remembering in the past how much Jeff had hated being upstairs in his home. Malachi had assured him many times that his little fear would not come true, which was that the two walls would suddenly stop supporting the roof and it would come crashing down on him. Although, Malachi knew the walls were extraordinarily strong, and would not be caving in any time soon.

"I just...need to get away from her for a bit. She can be so- so aggravating! How do you live with her?" Jeff said as he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. Malachi chuckled a bit. "Oh, she's usually not that bad. I'm sure you two will be better off when you get back." He responded knowingly, looking back to his metals and continuing to work as he spoke. Jeff was unsure of this theory. Even if she was obviously getting the symptoms almost all murderers were so familiar with, there was no guarantee some of them weren't just her personality. He couldn't picture Laureen being truly friendly with him. Not that he could picture himself being all friendly, either, though he knew he could tolerate her.

"In any case, what time are you two leaving tomorrow?" Malachi asked. "Oh...uh...early, I guess. I'm not sure. We need to leave before the helicopter station's take off times. All I remember is that they started early." Jeff replied. "I have a computer in my room, remember? You can use that to look up the times." Malachi offered, carving into a shiny, light grey metal. "Yeah...alright." Jeff said, feeling over the knife in his pocket. The room was awkwardly silent for a minute as he made no move to leave. He felt an urge to continue the conversation, and looked back to Malachi.

"How long has she been living with you?" He asked. Malachi was stunned. He hadn't expected that question to come from Jeffery, of all people. He just assumed the boy would have no interest in anything about himself or Lauren. "Oh. Um, let's see...two years now, I believe." Malachi answered, now looking at Jeffery, metals and carving tool lying on the desk. "Why do you ask?" He added, putting his hand on his knee and turning to face the boy in front of him, as if they were about to have a long talk. Jeff felt strange, almost embarrassed, and glanced at the ground, then back to Malachi.

"I was just wondering, that's all. It seems like she's been with you for a while." He answered honestly. Malachi smiled a bit, almost as though he was remembering something. He stayed silent for a few more seconds, thinking, until he spoke again. "Jeffery? I want you to listen to me for a moment. Really listen." He said, his small smile not fading. Jeff raised an eyebrow. There was no reason for him not to listen to Malachi, was there? What could be so important that he actually needed to stop and make sure Jeff was listening?

"Jeffery, this may be a little too much to ask of you. However, I need to make sure of this. No matter how much she gets on your nerves, talks back, or is downright annoying, you will not leave her behind, and you will NOT hurt her. Understand?" Malachi requested. Jeff stood in silence for a moment. Malachi's point was clear. Jeff could definitely see himself getting mad enough to hurt Laureen, just as he could see himself being angry enough to leave her behind. And Malachi knew this as well.

Jeffery scratched the back of his neck, almost looking a little nervous. "Yeah, that is a lot to ask of me with this particular girl on my hands." He said. Despite the somewhat comical tone he had, neither Malachi nor Jeffery himself could tell if he was serious or not. "Joking aside, I need you to say you'll agree with me." Malachi responded. Jeff let out a small nervous laugh.

"Getting a bit too comfortable with a serial killer, aren't you old man?"

"Well, this certain killer happens to owe me a big favor."

"You know, I could just kill both of you and not have to take Laureen anywhere."

"You could."

"And you think I won't?"

"I think you can't."

Jeff was taken back by this answer. In the short time Jeffery had known Malachi, years ago, he had seen enough to know that Mal was a decent fighter. But to take on Jeffery? Unarmed? There's no way Malachi would win, especially since he was a full decade older than when Jeff had last seen him (which meant the nickname 'old man' now had literal meaning). When Jeff lived with him for a week or so, Malachi used to look a bit younger. It was strange now, to see people aging around him when he himself never changed.

None the less, old age makes people slow and unsteady, Jeff knew that much. Even all those years ago, when Jeff was just starting to kill, Malachi wouldn't dare challenge him in such a way. Now, when Jeff had plenty of experience and could kill him on the spot, why now would Mal chose to say such a thing? Jeff scoffed, a little annoyed at Malachi's remark. "And why can't I?" He asked in an all-knowing tone. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Jeffery, you have the means to. You have skill and intimidation, of course. I think what prevents you from killing me is on a more personal level. Such as a life debt?" Malachi replied, in an honest and good natured tone.

Jeff's eyes widened slightly (if possible), and he felt himself freeze up. They were both silent for a moment, before Jeff let out a short, jokingly defeated sigh, the small smile on his face barely noticeable under the disfiguring cuts. "Okay, you got me there. I promise I'm not gonna hurt your 'daughter'. Happy?" He said. Malachi let out a single chuckle, eyes sparkling with something Jeffery wasn't familiar with. "Yes. Now, go get everything ready and pack some food. And don't let Laureen pack one to many things." Malachi said, turning back to his work desk.

Jeff rolled his eyes, feeling as though he shouldn't allow himself to be bossed around like this, but muttered a short 'fine' in reply and started down the stairs. He came down to the last step just in time to see Laureen hesitantly put a folded square of fabric into her duffel bag. She looked unsure, and almost disturbed about it, though Jeff only caught a glimpse of her expression. She zipped up up the zipper on the pocket of her bag as Jeffery came into the room, looking his way to see who was coming down the stars. She couldn't help but frown at him. Jeffery didn't return the frown, simply saying she should get some rest, before heading into Malachi's room for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol- well that was a bit of a disaster. XD  
> I'm sorry if it seems a little short! I had most of the chapter done, but my computer decided to do a virus check and erase everything I had....so I had to rewrite it all. ;w;  
> Still, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Also, I will be going on a two-week vacation starting tomorrow, and will not be following my normal pattern of updating the story every week. I promise that will be back to writing as soon as possible!  
> Thank you for reading! :-)


	10. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of Jeff and Laureen's journey and Laughing Jack's predicament with his latest method of entertainment.

Jeff awoke to the sound of Malachi's alarm clock, which had been set to 6:00 A.M. For a moment, he just let the annoying little clock repeatedly beep, wishing that he had more time to rest. He groaned, accepting that he would not be getting any more sleep today, flipping his rag off his eyes and hitting the button of the alarm clock a bit harder than he had intended. He allowed himself another minute of simply laying there and starring at the ceiling, before sleepily swinging his feet over the side of the bed, grumbling to himself as he did so. He was currently only in his pants and a black t-shirt, as his hoodie and shoes were on the other side of the room. His socks were still on his feet, on account of him being too lazy to take them off the night before.

He batted a strand of his long, unmanaged hair out of face, glaring at the alarm clock as best he could. He felt groggy, and clearly needed more sleep, but there was no time. He let out a small sigh as he reminded himself of that fact. Jeff stood up, already on his balance as his graceful stature didn't allow him to falter even in the morning. Jeffery had no idea he was this graceful- he always thought of it as something girly and not fitting for a killer. Truth be told, he unintentionally practiced his grace every time he killed, since he had to be light on his feet and in total control of himself before he took his next victim. Though he knew he had obtained a certain amount of stealth over the years, he was oblivious to any graceful stature or poise he had.

Jeff walked over to his hoodie draped over the chair at the desk, the 'Sparringburg helicopter training flight times' page still up on the monitor of the computer. Grumbling again, he pulled his hoodie on, managing to ruffle his hair further in the process. He felt through the pocket to make sure his knife was still there, out of habit, and then walked lazily over to the wall, where his shoes laid. He shuffled them on without undoing the laces, which were tied in so many knots by now that it seemed impossible to untangle. He pulled his hood over his messy hair, not caring enough to simply smooth the mangled locks down, and stepped out of the room. The first thing he caught sight of was Laureen, still sleeping peacefully on the couch, with her blanket snuggled close to her.

Jeff walked up to the couch, vaguely noticing his own muffled footsteps and subconsciously reminding himself that he was not sneaking up on another victim, therefore having no reason to be quiet. He walked normally the rest of the way to the couch and shook the sleeping teen to wake her up. "...Hey. Hey, get up! We have to leave or else we won't make the helicopter." He said, volume lowered slightly out of his own grogginess. Laureen groaned and pulled the cover over her head, in a fashion so childish that Jeff was almost expecting a 'five more minutes' line from her. He rolled his eyes, and instantly regretted it when they began to burn. He let out a small grunt of pain under his breath, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes. The irritation he felt was clear in his voice. 

"Get up! We have to get going. You packed?" He said, pulling Laureen's blanket back off her head in a less-than-gentle manner. Laureen squinted her eyes and groaned. "Yeah...um, yeah I'm packed." She said groggily, voice hushed and a bit raspy, attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Good. I'll go get everything ready...oh, and take your crowbar." Jeff replied. "Huh? Oh. Why? I won't be-" Laureen's sentence was interrupted with a yawn she couldn't hold back. "...won't be killing anyone..." She continued, still sleepy. She looked to Jeffery, his face startling her and causing her eyes to widen, reminding her just who she was talking to. "Just bring it, okay? You should get dressed." Jeff replied, walking away into the kitchen and opening the fridge, grabbing the bags of food he had prepared the night before.

The food was in two blue fabric bags, fresher than it would have been if Jeff had simply left it out. He pulled both of the small bags off the plastic shelves, turning around and kicking the fridge closed with his heel before walking over to the table. He set the bags down just to make sure everything he packed was there, and that he didn't need anything else. Inside the bags were just some snacks and things to get them through the first day or two; he wasn't planning on packing food for the whole trip, after all. He could easily get food in Arcos, so he had no reason to pack a bunch of meals. After a few more minutes, he decided to simply sit on the couch and wait for Laureen to get dressed.

The unamused teenage girl had made her way into the bathroom five minutes ago, and time ticked on as Jeffery waited. He was suddenly reminded of the fabric square Laureen had packed hesitantly into her bag. What was so special about it? It just seemed like an unnecessary square of cloth. Jeff's eyes gravitated towards the duffel bag on the ground. Before he could investigate the fabric further, Laureen stepped out of the bathroom. Instead of the green pajamas she was in before, she now wore something a bit more suitable to go outside in. A purple t-shirt, blue stretch pants that ended at her heels, and her new black and purple tennis shoes. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, a way she very rarely wore it, with a yellow hair tie. The color of her eyes seemed impossible to miss, as they were a dark mix of red, purple, and black.

"Took you long enough! Let's get a move on or we'll miss the take off." Jeff said, standing from his seat on the couch. Laureen's eye color confused him, as it seemed to change every time he saw her. It was a little annoying that he understood so little about her condition, but he could always ask more about it later if his confusion became too bothersome. "...Right." Laureen replied, Jeff passing her on his way into the kitchen as she walked over to the couch to get her bag. She slung the strap over her shoulder, watching as Jeff walked back into the room with two blue bags in his hands. Rather than question him, Laureen turned away and walked up the stairs to see Malachi. She was so used to seeing him every morning, awake long before her, working on his engravings or reading the newspaper. 

It turned out that the old man was asleep at his desk today, head on his crossed arms and light snores breaking the silence of the room. The two-walled room was filled with dim daylight from the rising sun. Laureen frowned. Did Jeffery kick Malachi out of his room? No, Malachi would never allow Jeff's attitude to go that far, would he? It was Malachi's house, after all! Laureen put her bag inside the elevator, against it's wall, listening to the chirping of birds that resided in the trees just outside the cabin. At that moment, Jeff began walking up the stairs, satisfied with the food that was packed and ready to leave. Once on the second floor, his eyes immediately caught sight of the man sleeping at the work desk.

He gave a small sigh and walked closer to the desk, rearranging the way he held the bags in his hands as he did. One bag was simply held normally at his side, while the other hung against the wrist of the hand in his pocket. "Mal! We're leaving." He said, just loud enough to wake Malachi, who was a light sleeper. Malachi was still for a few moments, before mumbling a bit. He then opened his eyes, realizing what was just said to him. "Oh. Already? ...Alright." Malachi said in a tired voice, stretching his arm halfway over all his supplies to get his glasses (which somehow ended up all the way on the other end of his desk). He put on his glasses as he stood, knees popping and back aching slightly. "Do you have everything?" He asked. Jeff and Laureen both nodded, though Jeff's nod was more half-hearted.

"I hope you didn't overpack, Laureen." Malachi said, smiling at the girl he considered his daughter. "I only brought what I need, don't worry." Laureen replied, returning the smile. There was a pause between them, and Malachi sighed, looking outside for moment with a faraway look in his eyes. His trance was broken by his own thoughts, as his eyes widened a little and he muttered a small "Oh!", turning back to his desk as if he had forgotten something. He grabbed Laureen's work gloves and walked over to her, handing them to her and motioning for her to put them on. Laureen gave him a confused look, but took the gloves and began to put them on. The brown leather seemed a bit old fashioned, and they almost looked more like gardening gloves, but protected Laureen's hands none the less.

Jeffery was a bit confused as to why Laureen received the gloves, though he wouldn't ask about it. Once Laureen had both of her work gloves on, Malachi took her hands in his own. His soft eyes had a serious look in them, and the tone of his voice followed suit. "Now, I want you to keep these on as long as you're away, alright? No fingerprints, no traces. Nothing linking you to Jeffery or Arcos. Got it?" He said. Laureen nodded. "Got it." She replied, and Malachi let go of her hands. He gave her a warm smile and pulled her in for a hug, which Laureen gladly returned. Their hug lasted for about a minute, and though the silence and warm embrace was comfortable to them, it left Jeff awkwardly waiting for the moment to end.

Soon enough, Jeffery and Laureen were making their way into the elevator, with many thoughtful glances and short conversation with Malachi. Laureen was beginning to realize just how anxious and nervous she was about traveling, but she didn't mention her discomfort as her 'father' wished her good luck. The old man waved goodbye as the elevator lowered, sneaking a warning glare to Jeff just before the contraption began to move. However, that glare soon dissolved into a smile, and Jeff felt inclined to return it as they walked out of the elevator, onto the ground. "So...how are we getting there?" Laureen asked begrudgedly, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

Jeff was silent for a moment, watching from the corner of his eye as Malachi pulled the elevator back up to the second story floor. "...It's not that far. If we walk, we'll be there in time." Jeff answered, looking forward to the trail in front of them.

*Back at the abandoned Carnival*

Laughing Jack was sleeping in a cart on the top of the ferris wheel, surrounded by complete silence, other than the occasional bird that happened to fly around. He was on the floor of the cart, head against one seat and feet up on the other. He didn't need sleep to operate like humans did, and therefore rarely ever slept. Still, he considered it a pleasant pastime. So for now, he was enjoying the luxury of sleep, just to prevent himself from being bored. That is, until he heard that squeaky front gate creak open. It took him a moment to react, simply out of the slight grogginess he felt, but one of his pale blue eyes slowly opened in reaction to the sound.

Jack was unsure if he had actually heard anything at first. Had he imagined that sound? He strained his ears and waited for a moment. 'Creeaak'. It sounded a second time, and Jack concluded that it was in fact the gate. He groaned like an annoyed child, slowly getting out of position to look through the window of the faded yellow cart. His eyes scanned the area for a moment before landing on the front entrance, watching as a familiar teenager walked further into the carnival. Was that...who he thought it was?

"...Elise?" Laughing Jack mumbled, surprised that the girl had come back at all. What was she doing here? It was very rare for anyone to willingly come back to this carnival. And yet, here she was. This time, she had a tan bag sporting her school's logo with her, but was not wearing her school uniform. She instead wore a long sleeved shirt colored light green, faded jeans that slightly covered her black converse shoes, and her hair was once again up in a ponytail. She looked left and right nervously as she walked down the dim path, continuing in the direction she went last time.

Jack noticed, now that he was looking out of the cart, that it was sunset, meaning he had slept for just over 4 hours. He looked back out over his carnival, then back inside the cart, then to the carnival again in a debating manner. He groaned a bit, teeth clenching as he teleported to the tent he found Elise in last time. He looked around, trying to tell if Elise was behind the machine she hid behind last time. He jumped back as he heard footsteps outside the tent, quickly hiding behind a pile of clutter and a cotton candy machine.

Just as the feathers on the shoulders of his costume disappeared from sight, Elise waked into the tent, the opening of it pulled just wide enough for her slim figure to slip through without pulling it open further. She looked around the tent, and then let out a small breath, almost like a sigh of relief. "Um...Jack? Jack? Are you in here?" She asked, directing her speech all around the tent as she walked down the lines of machines. When she received no answer, she slowly made her way behind the machines, nearly out of sight just as Laughing Jack peaked his head over his machine. 

He saw her go behind the same machines as she did last time, completely oblivious to him just a few feet away. Jack silently followed her, overly cautious until he stopped at the machine they had passed notes under the last time. He heard a slight rustling from the machine, which was obviously Elise. What she was doing, he wasn't sure of, though he had an idea. He sat down, being as silent as he could, careful not to be seen over the top of the metal contraption.

After staring at the machine for a minute, beginning to wonder why he was doing this or even putting up with this teenager again, a clean blank sheet of paper and a black pen were passed under the small space in between the ground and iron. Elise had come prepared this time, taking some clean lined paper from one of her school binders and a pen from her pack, noticing a small charm in the shape of a butterfly as she passed the items under the machine. She picked it up out of instinct, marveling at it for a moment as she examined it, before slipping it into her pocket and she adjusting her position until she was sitting on her knees.

She then faced the metal back of the popcorn machine, as if expecting to suddenly be able to see through it to the other side. She took a deep breath, and exhaled lightly before finally speaking. "Are you there, Jack?" She asked, voice clear and having small hints of determination in it. There was a pause, which left Elise in an anxious silence. Had she said that to an empty tent? Was he just not answering her? These thoughts flashed through her mind until she finally heard the scribbling of a pen, making her heart flutter in anticipation. She was beginning to suspect this wouldn't work!

The paper was slid back under the machine, and Elise's eyes instantly scanned over the words. 'Yes, I am.' It read, still in the same messy handwriting it did last time. Elise couldn't hold back the smile spreading across her face. She had always been a bit of an adrenaline junky (mostly stemming from her love of jujitsu), and this fleeting feeling she had was giving her a rush, along with the alluring sense of mystery. She passed the paper back under the machine as she spoke. "Will you always be here if I hide behind this thing?" She asked.

Once again she could hear Jack's heavy writing, and before long, the paper slid back under the machine, without the pen. 'I might as well.' It read. Elise didn't know how to feel about that answer. She passed the paper back under the hiding place and their pattern continued.

"What do you mean by that?"

'It's boring here.'

"Boring...? Why do you live here, then?"

'This is my home.'

"....Jack, why won't you speak to me?"

'I don't want you hearing my voice.'

"What...? Well, why not?"

'Because I don't want you to.'

Elise frowned at the vague answer, slipping the paper back underneath the machine again. Jack did seem to be intentionally keeping his answers simple and unclear. Maybe he simply didn't trust her? It was possible, since he wasn't showing himself to her either.

"...Well then, can I at least see you? You don't have to talk if you don't want to...but it would be easier for you to just, I don't know, hold up the paper rather than passing it under this thing every time."

'No.'

"Why not?"

'You would run.'

"Hehehe! I'm sure you're not that bad, Jack."

'But I am.'

Laughing Jack thought his answer was very honest, at least. There was no doubt in his mind that Elise would be scared away if she ever saw him, and he liked the bit of company he had last time she was here. Before Elise arrived in the tent, he had even wondered what she was going to do this time, but it looked as though she was only curious about him. That wasn't much fun. While he did somewhat enjoy the attention he was receiving, he'd rather not be asked too many questions.

Then, memories of a child he knew a long time ago came back to him. Issac, the kid he was made for. He never did anything fun with Issac when the boy was grown...other than that one time. Yet, he remembered being very happy when Issac was a child. Yes, the things him and Issac did were fun...when Jack was still a colorful and happy clown. Would those things still be fun to him? '...Well, no harm in trying. This is all for fun anyway...' He thought. He closed his eyes, trying to recall what he and Issac did together back then.

They played pretend...they told jokes...Jack gave him candy and toys. What else happened? Laughing Jack then remembered something from a long time ago. He remembered sitting beside Issac in the grass of the backyard, but they weren't playing together in the memory. They were talking...no, Issac was talking and Jack was listening. What was he saying? Jack couldn't remember. 'Something kids like to do besides playing and eating candy...what was it he did?' He thought.

He took a moment to rack his brain, thinking about it over and over, trying to remember. Then it clicked. He snapped his fingers out of habit as he figured it out, audible to Elise on the other side of the machine, who had also been thinking silently. Curious, she simply slid the paper under the machine without a word, waiting for an explanation. 'How about you tell me a story?' was written on the page when it slid back to her from under the machine.

Elise was taken back by what Jack wrote. She didn't expect him to question anything about her, much less ask her for a story. Hesitantly, she slid the paper back under as she spoke. "O-oh. I don't have much to tell...how about you, do you have any stories?" Elise asked. Jack growled lowly in frustration, slipping the paper right back to Elise, his request still plainly written. Elise could hear the small growl from her side of the popcorn machine. She stayed silent for a moment, and then sighed in defeat as she slid the paper back again, for him to write a reply to her story later on.

"Alright, fine. Let me think...what could I tell you..." Elise thought aloud purposefully, to show she wasn't turning down Jack's demand. A flash of paranoia suddenly ran trough her. She was seriously about to tell something from her personal life to someone she had never even seen. She'd been warned about these things before. What if this 'Jack' was actually someone pretending to live here? Maybe they were spying on her, or trying to collect information, or maybe intending to hurt her? 

It was a miracle the thought had never crossed her mind before, since she liked to think she was usually a bit cautious by nature. She hesitated, and took a moment to think this over. If Jack really wanted to hurt her, he would have done it by now, wouldn't he? And she had no terribly valuable information to give, much less a reason to spy on her. These thoughts calmed her, and as she reasoned with herself that Jack had no reason to lie, she began thinking over any entertaining stories she had to tell.

"...Well, I could tell you about the talent show, that one usually works. At my school, there's a talent show held every year, where any kids who sign up have to do something up on stage for two minutes. For my performance, I was demonstrating some jujitsu moves, since that was about all I could do. I was about halfway through it when someone from behind stage ran out covered in red and purple chicken feathers." Elise said, recalling the memory. She heard small snickering from the other side of the machine, making her smile a bit.

"Of course I didn't notice him until a minute later, when I accidentally roundhouse kicked him off his feet." She continued. She heard laughter from the other side. Despite hearing it once before (sort of), she still found herself taken back by the voice doing the laughing. It was neither raspy nor clear, and was deep, definitely a man's voice, but not an old man. It was a bit hard to distinguish and strange. The laughter faded almost as quickly as it had begun, and Elise didn't know why she felt so chilled by this as a cold shiver ran up her spine.

She tried to think of something else to get Jack laughing again, since that seemed to be something they could bond over a bit. Maybe, if they bonded enough, he would come out of hiding. Once that happened, Elise would not only finally have that mystery uncovered, but could also determine if he needed help. "Um...let's see..." Elise tried to think of any other stories she might have, but nothing really stuck out to her as being entertaining. She gave a defeated sigh and frowned. "I don't think I have any other funny stories to tell..." She said.

As Jack heard this, he was reminded once again of Issac. That kid had said those exact same words after he had finished a funny story about a prank. It was a long time ago, but he still remembered what Issac suggested afterwards, which had sparked a long train of laughs and witty comments. He jotted it down on the paper Elise had slid under the machine a minute ago and slid it back, careful not to let his long claws show. Elise was trying to think of something else she could tell Jack when the paper slid under, the words 'Then tell me a joke.' written on it.

She smiled. She knew her fair share of jokes, since one of her dorky friends at school would always tell her two or three over lunch. "Alright! Um...let me think of a good one..." Elise thought for a moment, resting her chin in her hand as she tried to recall some of her friend's jokes. To her surprise, she didn't know as many as she thought she did. Most of her own 'jokes' were just little puns or wordplay. She could recall one from her friend that was a little long, but should be funny enough to produce a laugh from Jack...hopefully. 

She ran over the joke in her mind to make sure she got it right, then began. "Okay, how about this: Mr. and Mrs. Brown had two sons. One was named Mind Your Own Business and the other was named Trouble. One day the two boys decided to play hide and seek. Trouble hid while Mind Your Own Business looked for him behind garbage cans and bushes. Then he started looking in and under cars until a police man approached him and asked, 'What are you doing?'. 'Playing a game.' the boy replied."

"'What's your name?' The officer questioned. 'Mind Your Own Business.' Said the boy. Obviously angry, the policeman said, 'Are you looking for trouble?!' to which the boy replied 'Why, yes I am.'" As Elise finished her joke, she realized Jack had been laughing lightly ever since the fictional officer asked the boy's name, and was now laughing a bit harder. As his laughter calmed, Elise felt the familiar feeling of wanting to make her new audience laugh again, as she felt every time she began telling jokes.

Even though his laugh was odd, it was still a genuine laugh, and Elise liked making people laugh. She doubted Jack would suddenly trust her after a few jokes, but it wouldn't hurt to share a laugh. Elise racked her brain for another joke, and then remembered one that was bound to make Jack laugh. "Here's another one. A genius walks up to an idiot and confidently makes a bet. He says to him 'Hey idiot, for every question I ask you that you don't know the answer to, you give me $5. And if you ask me a question I can't answer, I'll give you $5,000.'"

"So the idiot says 'Okay.' The genius asks, 'How many continents are there?' The idiot doesn't know and hands over $5. Then the idiot says 'My turn! What stands on two legs but sleeps on three?' The genius racks his brain for the answer, but eventually gives up and hands over $5,000. 'Shoot,' he says, 'I lost. By the way, what was the answer?' And the idiot hands over $5." Elise finished. Jack once again laughed, a little louder and longer this time. This made Elise smile, and she quickly realized that she liked hearing Jack laugh, just like she liked hearing her friends laugh.

She told more jokes as time passed by, until Jack started writing jokes back. Soon, they were both laughing and having a good time, just being there. Their jokes started getting less and less related to the previous ones, and even less funny at times, but it still made them laugh due to the mood they were in. Elise couldn't remember the last time someone had enjoyed her jokes this much. Jack laughed at everything! He laughed at her lengthy jokes as well as the short ones, chuckled at her wordplay, even at her terrible puns.

Though, the laugh that followed the puns were usually accompanied with a groan due to how bad it was. Elise lost track of time rather easily, and before she knew it, she was getting a text from her mother telling her to come home. She said goodbye to Jack, to which Jack wrote a short and messy 'Bye.' in return, teleporting all the way back up to that top yellow cart on his ferris wheel as soon as he dropped the pen. He waited a minute, just in case the girl happened to glance his way, before looking out to see Elise exiting the carnival.

A smile crossed his face as he thought over one of the jokes she had told him. 'Can a kangaroo jump higher than the Empire State Building? Of course! Because-' "The Empire State Building can't jump." He mumbled aloud, giving a little chuckle at the silly joke. He sat down on one of the seats, close to the window, smiling still as he looked out over the many tents and broken down rides. He was in a great mood, all thanks to Elise's corny jokes and terrible puns. He couldn't help but think of her even more, especially since she reminded him so much Issac.

He wasn't sure whether or not to like that part of her, and as he thought about it, he began to feel conflicted. Elise had quite a few things in common with his old friend, to the point of her repeating Issac's very words. The memories came along with...a very strange feeling. But he decided he'd put up with it. Elise was fun to be with, and he'd like to keep her around for a little while longer. Even though he knew perfectly well that this was breaking one of Slenderman's infamous rules.

He would probably have to kill her at one point in order to get away with this...but for now, there was no reason to. Elise was entertaining and funny, offering more amusement than he ever got just lounging around the carnival. Not to mention lounging around with his 'friends' at the Slender Household. Laughing Jack's eyes widened a little in realization. If Elise was better than the current people he called his 'friends'...did that mean he...made another friend? A better friend? Who was a human teenager, of all people?

What was the definition of 'friend', exactly? Someone you don't want to kill, Laughing Jack supposed. 'So...yes. I guess I have a...human friend.' He thought, not sure on how to feel about the subject. It was obviously wrong going by the rules he had to abide by...but...what were his actual emotions regarding this? '.....A big jumble of mess, is what they are.' He thought. He needed to stop overthinking this. How ridiculous was it to get this worked up over some teenager? He kept Elise around because she was amusing, end of story. Jack smiled a bit and leaned back, feeling much more at ease with that answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have returned! XD  
> Sorry if it seemed like it took me forever to get this chapter up. I've got company over for the next few weeks, which only leaves very small windows of opportunity for me to write. But, I'll get as much done as I can, and Chapter 11 should be up sometime soon. :-)  
> Thank you for reading!


	11. Weighing The Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffery and Laureen hitch a ride on a helicopter headed to Nescordo. There's an hour on the clock until they'll need to force the pilot to make a turn in order to get to Arcos. That gives them lots of time to think...

After nearly half an hour of walking, Jeffery and Laureen made it to the helicopter pad without a problem. That is, unless you count trying not to be seen the whole way there, the constant doubts Laureen chose to voice, or having to run across the giant open field of the helicopter pad as 'problems'. The pilot of the helicopter was talking with another man on the opposite side of the helicopter pad. The other man was wearing a formal outfit- dress pants accompanied with a shirt and tie, while the pilot was wearing a blue uniform jumpsuit. Due to the lucky positioning of the pilot, Laureen and Jeff were able to hide directly behind the giant helicopter parked there, which gave them access to the helicopter door. 

It wasn't until Jeff pulled a pair of lock picks from his back pocket and attempted to unlock the door that Laureen decided to start panicking again. "This is crazy! This is absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent insane! Why did I agree to go with you?! I gave in because Malachi made a point, and now here we are about to HIJACK a freaking HELICOP-" Laureen was cut off by Jeffery. "Would you be quiet?! Just chill out, you'll be fine." He said, cautious of the pilot still talking to who Jeff assumed to be the instructor several feet away. "Are you kidding?! What if the pilot gets nervous and wrecks the helicopter?!" Laureen asked, paranoia setting in and the worst possible situations coming to mind. "He won't; he'll do everything he can to save his own skin." Jeff replied, successfully able to pick the lock. 

It hadn't taken long to get it open, considering he had picked the lock of a similar helicopter before. Though, the last one he broke into had 'Maimumbai, Florndia' printed on the side, rather than the 'Nescordo, Florndia' on the door of this one. Jeff pulled open the helicopter door carefully, trying not to make any noise loud enough for the pilot to hear. "Come on." He motioned for Laureen to follow him as he stepped into the vehicle. Laureen gave him an uneasy look, but said nothing, the grip on her bag tightening as she hesitantly stepped into the helicopter. The copter shook as she stepped on, causing a small squeal to escape her. "It shook! They're gonna know we're-" She started, but Jeff covered her mouth. "They will if you keep yapping!" He said in a hushed voice. 

He took his hand away and motioned her to follow him again, looking for a place to hide. There were multiple boxes towards the back, many stacked upon others and all securely latched to the metal clips on the floor due to the red, stretchy fabric cords keeping them in place. 'They're letting a trainee fly cargo?' Jeff thought, but brushed the question off as he maneuvered around the boxes. It was obvious that no one was supposed to be back here, since the boxes were laid out haphazardly in any way they could attach to the latches on the floor. Jeff stepped around a single box, crossing over some smaller crates to get through to some taller ones in the far back. As he reached a small patch of clear flooring, Laureen started tripping over the crates. 

"Watch it!" Jeff said, catching Laureen by the back of her shirt before she hit the ground. He began pulling her back up with one arm, letting Laureen regain her balance. As soon as she had, she assisted Jeffery by rocking back onto her heels, and then onto the flats of her feet, once again standing normally. "Thanks..." Laureen said, smoothing out her shirt and readjusting the sleeves. "Be more careful. If we knock this stuff over, he'll come back here to fix it before he takes off." Jeff replied, turning and looking around the boxes once again for a good hiding place. His eyes caught a stack of two decently sized crates towards the right side of the helicopter. He took Laureen's wrist and practically dragged her over to the crates, pulling her down with him to hide. 

He sat on his knees as he let go of Laureen, who was sitting with her back against the crates. Jeff turned around, facing the crates, looking around the side to see what kind of view he had from here. The whole left side of his vision was obstructed by another stack of smaller crates, but from the right he had a clear view of the back of the pilot's seat. He smirked. This would be a piece of cake, even easier than last time. 'Well...at least, it should be.' He thought, glancing over to Laureen. No sooner had he finished that thought did the pilot outside finish his conversation. He walked away from his instructor, waving and smiling as he did. Soon enough, Jeff heard the helicopter door open, and hid his face behind the crates. Laureen heard the door open as well, and unconsciously held her breath. 

Both teenagers were quiet and still, listening intently for anything the pilot did. It took a moment, but they heard the sound of a boot connecting with the metal of the helicopter floor. This was the boot of Pilot Mathis Leyke, who stepped into his friend's helicopter without a worry in his mind. Mathis' friend Jason, who usually flew the cargo (as he was an experienced pilot), was recently fired and Mathis had volunteered to pick up where he left off. As his first real flight, this was bound to kickstart his career if nothing went wrong. As he closed the helicopter door, he realized it wasn't locked when he had opened it. "Jason probably forgot to lock it." He muttered in his light german accent, which had faded even more due to his time in America with his family. 

He briefly looked over the cargo aboard the helicopter, staring at the many boxes he was responsible for getting safely to Nescordo. He then turned the other way and walked over to his chair, groaning a bit as he sat down in the pilot's seat. He put on his ear mufflers and reached up above him to flick on the power switch. In an instant, all the buttons lit up and the lights throughout the helicopter came on. With a few button combinations pressed on the pad in front of him and above him, Mathis got the propellers running properly. Slowly, he lifted the helicopter into the air and laughed a bit. His first cargo trip! He was excited, despite the fact that Nescordo was a good 5 hours away by helicopter. He was in for a long ride, but it would be worth it when he was promoted and making twice the pay he was now. 

He briefly wondered what exactly was in the crates he was delivering. He didn't exactly know, since this was originally Jason's job, but brushed the thought aside as quickly as he conjured it. It's not as if he could get up to check them now anyway, since he had to steer the copter. Little did he know, he would have found two teenagers hiding there if he only would have looked. Laureen and Jeffery were still quiet and unmoving behind the two crates they found, and Jeff was keeping an eye on Mathis' seat as the helicopter took off. Last time Jeff did this, he had to hide behind that seat, and sneak around before hand. It hadn't been easy, but it was definitely possible. Of course, that wouldn't have worked this time, now that he had Laureen with him.

Laureen was leaning against the crates, overly cautious of knocking them over despite the cords keeping them in place, therefore leaning with very little weight. She secured her duffel bag on her lap, clutching to it harder than she meant to. 'This is crazy!' She thought once again. She had never been in a helicopter before, much less not in the seat or without anything to keep her secure, like a seatbelt. The helicopter was perfectly steady, but was loud and accelerating quickly. Laureen felt like her stomach was doing a flip, and her ears were filled with the sound of the propeller...until it died down a bit. Laureen opened her eyes, which she had closed to lessen the sensation of her stomach flipping. "Wha- it stopped." She whispered. "Yeah, he closed the window." Jeff replied as if it were obvious. 

The open window in the cockpit had been shut by Mathis, since he only needed it open to hear the propeller as he was taking off, due to certain precautions. Jeff saw Mathis taking off his earmuffs and hanging them on a small rail above the window (which had three extra pairs on it). Jeff turned around, adjusting himself until he was leaning against the crates like Laureen. Of course, Laureen was being a bit more cautious than him and not using her full weight, due to the paranoia she felt in this situation. And there they sat, in silence. Laureen was afraid to say anything else at all, just in case the pilot would hear them. She only sat in this tense silence for all of two minutes, before Jeff turned to her. 

"Do you have your phone?" He whispered, so quietly Laureen almost didn't hear him. "What? Oh...yeah?" Laureen replied in a hushed tone, pulling out her phone carefully from the side pocket of her bag. She set it in Jeff's outstretched hand hesitantly, unsure if she could trust him with it at all. Jeffery pressed the power button, only to find the demand for a passcode on the screen. He made an unamused face and held the screen up. "It's 'nevermore'" Laureen whispered. She instantly realized she had just told Jeff her password instead of simply typing it in, and mentally kicked herself for doing something so stupid. Maybe she wasn't thinking straight due to all this craziness that she was going through. 'Oh well...I'll change it once I get it back.' She thought. 

Jeffery turned the phone back towards himself, the lock-screen wallpaper catching his eye. It was a raven with dark colors swirled in the background, and a small text in white at the very bottom in the right corner, that read '-Edger Allen Poe'. Jeff stopped for a moment. He remembered reading the story 'The Raven' by that poet in school. The only thing the raven ever said throughout the entire story was 'nevermore'. Laureen must be a fan of the poet. He wondered if she picked that up from Malachi. The man was practically a poet himself, with how much poetry he reads. Almost the entire bookcase in his room, from what Jeff could remember, was filled with the works of different poets. Breaking away from his thoughts, he typed the password in, and the home-screen came up. 

The image behind the apps was the white silhouette of a raven over a black backdrop, with words printed on the bird. 'Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.' Jeff read to himself. That quote seemed to remind him of something besides Poe, but he couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was something Malachi had once told him? Or was it from before he knew Malachi? 'Quote aside...' Jeff thought, going straight to the 'timer' app, and dismissing whatever memory was itching in the back of his mind. He muted the phone's volume and set the alarm to 55 minutes, starting the timer with his thumb as Laureen took the phone back. She looked at the timer and gave Jeff a confused look. 

"He'll be making a wrong turn in an hour. We'll need to make him go the other way." Jeff whispered. Laureen stared for a moment, but nodded in understanding and looked back to her phone, knowing that arguing was not a wise option for either of them. She absentmindedly swiped through her phone, passing by the apps she had neglected. It had been a while since she had actually spent any time on this thing. She brought it just so she'd be able to call Malachi when they got to Arcos. She opened her 'games' section and looked over the apps there. Quickly checking her volume, she saw it was turned all the way down. Jeff must have turned it down to prevent the alarm of the timer from going off. 

She opened 'Chicken Road', an app that was popular at her school 3 years ago. As she played, Jeffery started watching over her shoulder to pass the time. He contemplated asking for a turn, but decided against it. He was aware of his own temper, after all, and knew that an outburst of his over the game would cause the pilot to discover them earlier than necessary. So he just watched. Laureen unconsciously leaned the screen towards him over time, making it easier for him to see. He watched the chicken on the screen bounce around, trying to get across the many roads and train tracks it was on, being hit by different vehicles and causing many 'game-overs'. Jeff wasn't a big fan of watching bright screens, since it usually brought even more harm to his eyes. 

Thankfully, the screen wasn't very bright, but Jeff still knew it would sting when he looked away. That was one reason that he didn't have an interest in electronics anymore, and why he didn't watch television with everyone back home. Home...is that what he called it now? He had been in Slenderman's household for ten years now, and never called it 'home' aloud. He jokingly called it 'Slender's Mansion', due to the ridiculous size of the house, though in reality Slenderman had made many huge changes to his home in order to house so many people. Maybe that's why he never called it home, because there were simply too many people and too much space. He could tell a few others were uncomfortable with their situation as well. 

He hadn't contemplated this much before, but 'home' should probably be small and simple. 'What, like Malachi's cabin?' He thought sarcastically. However, after thinking over it again, he realized that Malachi's cabin was actually a fantastic example of a small, simple, and comfortable home. Though he hated that second story floor. Who puts only two walls up when building a room?! Jeff was sure it would fall one day. '...Maybe I should start going to Malachi's more often.' He thought. He knew Malachi was not just staying there because it was a nice 'home', but rather, was pushed into the position he was in due to some...complications that Jeffery would never admit happened. 

Though he was reminded of those complications when ever he thought of the cabin or Malachi and would surely be reminded every time he stepped into that hand-crafted elevator, it was the only other place where he was accepted, and was free of the worries and irritations Slenderman's household seemed to push onto him. He had thought very similar thoughts to these before he went there this year, when he found the opportunity to do so. 'And now look what happened.' He thought, anchoring to his situation, caused by the very same person he went to visit. The crates against his back were uncomfortable, the metal of the helicopter floor was cold, and the person beside him was practically a pacifist. 

If he were being honest, the crates and floor wouldn't be this irritating if it weren't for that last one. Laureen was jumpy, paranoid, whiney, annoying, and not at all violent. 'Well...not exactly 'pacifist', I guess.' He thought, remembering how Laureen had injured Laughing Jack when they were at the cabin. She might be violent again if necessary, but she was so hesitant about doing so it was aggravating. She had murdered three girls at her own school in the past, and yet, still found it so wrong to kill people that she didn't even know. Just the thought made him want to sigh angrily. Although...he had noticed the certain symptoms he knew so well. Withdrawal symptoms, he liked to call them, that came with the choice not to kill or the inability to kill over a long period of time. 

Though, in all honesty, he was usually more irritable during those times than Laureen was. Not only that, but he was starting to wonder if he was looking too far into this, and this was just Laureen's personality. 'But would a person like that even like poetry? They wouldn't, right?' Jeff thought. As he was contemplating this, and trying to decipher Laureen's personality, the teen beside him was trying to avoid being wrapped in her own thoughts. For Jeffery, playing a game in this situation would simply a way to pass the time. For Laureen, however, this was a distraction. A distraction to everything that was going on around her. To the helicopter they were on, the hiding place they were in, and to the pilot sitting in the front seat. 'The perfectly innocent pilot, who's just doing his job...' She thought solemnly. 

Was Jeff going to kill that pilot after he flew them to Arcos? It wouldn't be unordinary for Jeff...so is that what would happen? If so, would that be blood on her hands? She was the reason they were flying to Arcos, after all. Without her, this pilot wouldn't be in danger. Distractions, distractions! Another game, play another game. She opened up a different game, 'Train Rider', and began to play. She tried to simply pay attention to the mechanics of the game, tried to focus on getting a high score or something, but her thoughts kept eventually melting back into her concern for the pilot. Not only that, but what would she do in Arcos? She had a fair idea of where to start looking to find the criminals, but what would she do after that? 

There's no way in hell she'd be able to successfully capture all of them! And she wasn't nearly so strong as to fight them off if she had to. Her only hope was to lead police to the organization's hideout, but the police there were not exactly reliable. She may as well be marching any police she lead there to an early grave. And after that, the organization would move again and everything would repeat. What could she possibly do? She tried to lead her mind away from this train of thought by playing another game. This was followed by another and another until...a notification popped up in the center of Laureen's screen. 'Timer Done' it read. Her whole body went cold. 

A 30 second silence stretched out between the two teens, both absolutely still. Laureen finally turned her head to Jeff, who was already  turned to her. They looked at each other for a minute, as if both were silently confirming what was about to happen. Jeffery then broke the stillness, shifting over quietly to the small opening between the two stacks of crates to see the pilot. After staring for a moment, he decided he knew the best way to sneak up to him without capturing his attention. As Jeff thought this out, Laureen was in a cold, tense, shattering state, not moving from her position on the floor. She felt as though time could freeze at any moment, and any little move that she made would compromise everything. 

Jeffery slipped past Laureen, slowly standing from their hiding place. He mouthed a small 'stay' to Laureen, to which she just nodded slowly. He stilled for a moment, upon noticing Laureen's uncertain features. A strange feeling was welling up in his gut, something that made him stop for longer than intended. Was he...hesitating? He never hesitates! This was such a simple thing anyway, why would he hesitate? Was it because of Laureen? The girl who couldn't possibly understand his killing and viewed every death like it was the end of the world? 'Yeah right.' He thought. Jeff looked away from Laureen and started to silently creep forward as he was thinking, getting further away from Laureen and the feeling he had diminishing. 

But that feeling only came back full-force when he thought over it again. Yes, it was because of Laureen. He was hesitating because Laureen's never really seen how he was about to act. He knew how he appeared to others. Quite a few people had walked in on him murdering someone, and he saw the look in their eyes. They've shouted things at him before, describing him as horrible, uncaring, and sadistic. 'So what? It's who I am, isn't it? I don't have to change anything about me for anyone! Especially that whiney bi***! It'll do her some good to know how stupid she's being.' He thought, silently advancing out of the maze of cargo. He knew that kind of empathy was considered normal, but Laureen was so empathetic it was sickening! Not every life is so fu**ing valuable! 

As Jeff reached clear ground, he made his footsteps even lighter, and kept his eyes on the headrest of the pilot's seat. 'I'm sorta doing this for her anyway, aren't I? Besides, what the fu** was she expecting me to do?! Who does she think I am? Some stupid god da** nobody that chickens out when things need to get done, like her? Why the hell am I making a big deal out of this?' He thought, the feeling he had slowly leaving as he got closer and closer to Mathis, who was utterly unaware of Jeff's presence. Knowing that Mathis was unaware of him gave him an almost giddy, itching feeling, knowing how shocked the pilot would be in only a few moments. 

Mathis was just looking out the windshield, admiring the lovely view he had from so high up, since it was the only thing he could do to alleviate his boredom. He briefly thought about his 15 year old daughter at home, and how much she would have loved the view, since she had always wanted to ride in the helicopters Mathis used. And one day, when he was trusted enough to have his own helicopter for his jobs, he may be able to take his daughter for a ride. He was imagining how happy she'd be, how happy his wife would be, and how long it may take to get his job to that point when a voice cut his thoughts short.

"Don't move."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry this took me so long to finish! I hit a terrible writers block and more than half of my work on Chapter 11 was absolutely unusable. I've completely re-writen it, and have my inspiration back, so I should be updating on a normal schedule once more! Thank you all for your patience! o(^▽^)o


	12. Fearing Horrible Crimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's no surprise that the atmosphere aboard the helicopter they high-jacked seems really tense...

A menacing, slightly raspy voice growled a demand that made Mathis freeze. In an instant, his optimistic thoughts were gone, replaced by something sharp and dangerously close to his neck. Mathis' eyes went wide as a sinking feeling of despair went through his stomach, and his hands clutched the controls of the helicopter. As directed, he didn't move, not even a muscle. "Wh-what do you want?" He asked, as calmly as he could, though his voice still shook. He wasn't stupid; he knew what kind of situation he was in. Even though he had read of this happening many times and was educated on a hostage situation, he never thought it would happen to him. He tried to calm his heart as his hands began to shake, overly aware of the knife at his throat.

"I just want you to make a little detour is all. To Arcos." The voice replied, seeming a bit closer now. The voice, though a bit raspy like that of a smoker, was obviously a younger man's voice. "T-to Arcos?!" Mathis replied with disbelief. Did this high-jacker have any idea how long of a 'detour' that would be? "Did I fu**ing stutter? Take us to Arcos!" The voice replied in a louder, aggravated tone. This sent chills down Mathis' spine, and a lump in his throat formed as his heart-rate increased once again. He slowly shifted the helicopter to the right, now on a course for Arcos. 'Wait, 'take us to Arcos'? Is there more than one person there?' He thought. 

He tried to listen out for any sign that there was another high-jacker on board, listening so intently that he could hear his own rapidly beating heartbeat. "Good. Don't try anything, or this knife goes into your neck! I know the route to Arcos myself, which means I don't need you. You're lucky I don't kill you now." The voice commented, and the weapon at Mathis' throat was adjusted so that it would only take one small, swift move to slit his throat. He heard the high-jacker step around the chair to the side, just enough to make himself visible in the corner of Mathis' eye. The pilot slowly turned his head, cautious of the tool at his neck, to see his captor clearly. His eyes widened. 

The boy's hair was a raven black mess, his white hoodie was noticeably stained, and his skin was a sickly pale. His eyelids were nonexistent, causing his eyes to be bloodshot and dry. A wide smile was carved into his face. "You-you are from t-the papers..." Mathis whispered, as the lump in his throat prevented him from speaking any louder. A fresh jolt of fear ran through him, and he lost his grip on the helicopter steering wheel. "Yeah. What do you want, an autograph? Don't crash the helicopter." Jeffery replied, noticing the pilot's hand slipping from the controls out of shock. In an instant, the german man was more aware of his surroundings, correcting his hands back to holding the steering wheel. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and his eyes were wide as he slowly turned back to the windshield. 

Jeffery noticed the name-tag on the pilot's shirt as he turned his attention back to flying the vehicle. 'Mathis Lyke' it read. 'What are you, foreign?' Jeff thought sarcastically. What he saw plastered on the pilot's face when he looked back up made him pull a smile that he couldn't keep down. That reaction, the look of fear that all of his victims had before their demise. It would never get old! Jeff turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on Mathis while directing his speech away from him. "Hey, Laureen! You can come on out." He said. The pilot's eyes traveled over to his captor as he heard this, though he could only see Jeff's left side. 'So I was right. There is someone else.' He thought. 

He heard a bit of shuffling a few moments after Jeff spoke, and then light footsteps that stopped a foot or so behind him. They seemed a little slow, almost resistant. "Hey, I got us on the right track. What's with that look?" Jeff said. "It's...nothing..." A female voice replied, tone hesitant and barely expressing any emotion. Jeff frowned (as much as his permanent smile would allow), looking towards the other person. "How 'bout a 'thank you'? You wouldn't even be going if I wasn't doing all the work." He said. "You're right. But I didn't want to go anyway." The girl, 'Laureen', replied. Her voice was smooth, undistorted and perfectly normal. It was a nice voice, almost a sweet voice, and a huge contrast to the serial killer who currently held a knife to Mathis' neck.

"Well, I didn't exactly feel up to running you around, either. I owe the old man a favor." Jeff said, keeping his hand steady as he felt the urge to cut Mathis creeping over him. It may not have been because of the pilot, in fact it was most likely because of Laureen, but Mathis was the one with a knife to his neck. "Well it's wasting your time. I don't know why either of you want me to, but won't be...be..." Laureen trailed off, feeling uncomfortable talking about murder with the pilot in front of her. "Yeah, yeah, you won't be killing anyone. Jeez. I don't get why you're so pissy about it." Jeff replied, moving his arm slightly, which made Laureen tense up. It made her nervous to know that just out of her line of sight, a sharp weapon was being held to that man's throat that could fatally injure him at any moment, with any little move The killer made.

Laureen tried to relax her shoulders, frowning at Jeffery. "I'm not being 'pissy' about it! I'm just against killing innocent people, unlike you!" She countered. "You killed those girls just fine, didn't you? Why can't you handle some stupid criminals?" Jeff asked, quickly becoming aggravated. Why couldn't Laureen just open her eyes? Why was she against killing the company in Arcos? They're CRIMINALS, for crying out loud! If she couldn't handle killing people who deserve to be killed, how the hell did she manage to kill THREE school girls?! Laureen's eyebrows furrowed in anger, also becoming more aggravated. "That was different! I wasn't thinking when I did it! I'll never do it again!" Laureen replied, voice raising.

"It's not different! You killed three people you knew for years and you can't even bring yourself to kill ONE stranger!"

"So what?! I said I wasn't thinking! I-I was scared and-..."

"And nothing! What does that even matter? The company scares you, right?"

"Sure, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Fine- no, they don't scare me, is that what you want to hear?! I don't know any of them, after all! I have no idea what they're capable of besides what I've heard about them!"

"And that doesn't scare you?!"

"I...N-no! I'm going there to stop it, aren't I?! Why would I be scared of it?!"

"So why the fu** do you care?!"

"What do you mean 'why do I care'?!"

"Why do you care whether they die?! You just said you don't know them, and they're criminals, so why are you against this so god da** much?! They don't matter!"

Laureen's face fell into a somewhat shocked expression. A silence fell throughout the helicopter, the only thing heard being the faint sound of the propeller outside. "You-...You really think that way? ...That's your side of this?" She asked, tone lowered to a normal volume. "What the hell do you mean?! It's just common sense!" Jeff replied, as if Laureen were crazy. 'Of course...of course that's what he thinks. Why would I expect anything else?' Laureen thought, eyes lowering to the ground. She felt stupid for ever thinking Jeff had a little more empathy than this. There was no reason she should have thought anything different of him, yet she did. He was a killer, a murderer, and a sociopath. He would never see things Laureen's way. 

If he could only open his eyes a bit, and see how he was acting. Or was he aware of it? If so, does he simply not care about his behavior? Well...that might be even worse. Mathis could feel the tension in the room that pooled over them, and was also terrified after hearing Jeffery's thought process. As long as you don't know them, it's alright kill them? That sounded like the thoughts of a psychopath. This boy was truly a monster. Mathis had heard of Jeff's killings on the news in the past, when detailed, gruesome descriptions of 'Jeff the Killer's murders were given by a reporter or printed on the front side of a newspaper. Because of this, Mathis knew that Jeff was in Arcos a while ago, having killed 8 people on his little visit and landing his name in the papers once again. 

Then the killings moved to Sparringsburg. At the time, Mathis had been grateful of this, since he lived in Nescordo with his family (which was far enough from there). Admittedly, he wasn't too worried when he had to travel to Sparringburg for this job. The idea of him being killed was just too absurd, and many other employees had been reassuring him that they were in no danger. Jared himself joked that 'Jeff The Killer' would probably be gone again before Mathis even arrived. Mathis agreed since he knew that Jeff traveled regularly, and seemingly randomly, to avoid being caught. He hadn't thought of just how Jeff traveled, which was his mistake. 

He knew the helicopter station in the next town over had a problem with a high-jacker about a month ago, but it never once crossed his mind that the jacker could have been the infamous Jeff the Killer. And now he was stuck in the same situation. Whatever happened to that other pilot was going to happen to him, which was most likely death if what Jeffery just said was anything to go by. He would never see his family again, or get to tell them goodbye. What was the last thing he said to his daughter again? 'Alright, be safe! I'll see you when I get home.' Mathis recalled his words. He had then kissed his daughter and wife, and without a single 'I love you' or 'goodbye', he was gone. He remembered stopping at his son's room before he left...what had he said to him?

'Listen to you're mother, alright? See you after work.' ...Was that really all he said? What terrible last words to leave them with. His daughter was having a friend over today, too. Hopefully, she wouldn't be around when they received the bad news. Mathis continued to drown in self pity and regret. He should've looked into the other highjacking more, and found out how much of a threat it was to his own helicopter pad. He shouldn't have volunteered for Jared's job. He shouldn't have left his loving family today. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he stared ahead, the tops of tall towers barely visible even from the giant windshield. It was a nice view, which suited his situation in a horribly perfect way. 

While he was thinking, Laureen sat down on the long metal bench attached to the wall of the helicopter, which existed for smaller cargos. She felt angry, uncomfortable, and out of place. She wanted to be at home with Malachi. Why had she agreed to this? Why had she let Malachi convince her so easily? Too late to change it now. Since she had been convinced, she was now on a chilly helicopter with a pilot who was the hostage of a cold-blooded killer. That poor pilot was probably absolutely terrified! He had a good reason to be, for god's sakes, a killer was holding a knife to his throat! Laureen didn't want to think about what Jeff would do to the pilot after they landed. She leaned against the cold wall, allowing her eyes to close as they became a mess of colors once again. 

She felt sick, and anxious, nauseated to the point of just trying to breath without vomiting. Jeffery watched her, even as he stayed cautious of Mathis, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. He watched Laureen's eyes close, even though she wasn't tired or sleeping. She looked stressed out, and her hands were clenched into loose fists. 'What's this girl's problem?! I'm trying to help her! She'll see once we get there, once she finally kills someone and stops being such stuck-up.' Jeff thought. He then realized it may not be entirely about Arcos. Was he right? Did seeing him like this throw Laureen off? It seemed like a silly question; seeing a killer would throw anyone off. But this wasn't anyone. This was Laureen, who should have expected to see him like this. 

'That's right, it shouldn't surprise her! But she's still acting like a fu**ing idiot. It's just how I act, and she better deal with it! This is...' Jeff's thoughts trailed off as he looked back to Mathis, just to check on him clearly, before slowly looking back to Laureen with a frown. 'This is stupid. Did we just get into a fight? It'll be a lot harder to get her to work with me in Arcos if she hates me.' Jeff nearly groaned at the annoying thought. What was he supposed to do? It was nearly impossible to be nice to this girl, even more than others! It's like she was expecting him to be completely kind and gentle. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and turned back to Mathis. "How long will it take to get to Arcos?" He asked him. 

Mathis was surprised to be spoken to, snapping out of all of his thoughts at once, breath catching in his throat. He tried to answer, but the most he managed to do was freeze up. "Well?" Jeff requested again. "Eigh-eight hou-hours at most." Mathis replied, refusing to look at the killer and keeping his wide eyes glued to the scenery through the windshield. Jeff growled a bit. It had only taken six hours last time. How slow was this guy going? "Well, speed it up! I have somewhere to be." He said harshly. Mathis complied instantly, reaching for the accelerator. As he did, Jeff lifted the knife away a bit, in order for him to lean forward and pull the lever. He froze for a moment. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could knock that creepy teen right off his feet with a huge start of the accelerator, now that the knife was further from his neck. It might work, depending on how much Jeff weighed. 'Should I..?' He thought. The very idea that he could have the upper hand here sent a small burst of confidence through his system. Not enough to override his terror, but...enough to risk it. Taking his chances, he cranked the accelerator up to the highest level. Jeff saw this just in time, and changed his positioning to prevent being thrown into the hard metal of the control panels. He grabbed onto the back of the pilot's chair, reaching around to hold his knife close to Mathis's throat once again. 

The whole helicopter leaned forward with the power of the accelerator, and Laureen gave a small yelp as she was thrown from her seat, onto the floor. Mathis cranked the lever back down to a lower speed as he realized his plan hadn't worked, returning the helicopter to a normal state. He heard a low growl of irritation and offense. "Why you son of a..." Jeff was behind him, none to happy with his little stunt. Mathis gulped, eyes going wide again and breathing getting heavy. This had sealed his fate for sure. "God d**n it! I knew you'd pull something! Why can't any of you d**n pilots ever listen to what I say?!" Jeff yelled, raising his knife upwards and making a swift cut from the pilot's cheekbone to his jaw. 

"Ah!" Mathis yelped, more in shock than pain. He didn't know why he was surprised, he was expecting a lot worse, but the simple suddenness of the knife cutting into his skin left him stunned. Laureen heard this and looked up from where she had been thrown onto, and painfully dragged across, the floor. She had been dragged to the bottom of the control panel, so she could see most of the cut from her angle, and Jeff lowering his knife back down to the pilot's neck. She also saw a smaller cut, more similar to a scratch, on Mathis's neck from when the acceleration leaned him forward in his seat. "You'll be lucky if I don't chop off a few of your f***ing fingers!" Jeff yelled again, moving more towards the front of Mathis, forcing him to see his face. 

Laureen opened her mouth to protest against Jeff's threat, but saw that he wasn't taking action. Instead, he returned to the side of Mathis's chair, pressing the knife against his throat just soft enough not to cut, in an angry manner. If he hadn't been practiced in his hold on the knife, it would have cut the pilot again. "You pull anything else and I swear I'll slitting your throat and finding my own way to Arcos." He said, assuring Mathis that he was definitely willing to kill him. Mathis said nothing, now fearing even more greatly for his life, hands squeezing the sides of the wide steering wheel as he struggled to keep the helicopter on course. He had only ever traveled to Arcos on this route once, and that was by car with his wife. 

He was trying to remember the things he saw and map he had followed to get there. It wasn't easy when his very life was in the hands of a deranged teenager. Still, if he simply followed the general direction of Arcos, they'd reach some area of it. He tried to think only about the directions, but he was shaking and sweating, his mind slowly turning to dark, miserable thoughts. As easy as it was to loose himself in his brooding, he forced himself out of that train of thought, and focusing on getting to the teen's destination. He felt as though Jeff's eyes were now on him at all times, and that his gaze was as sharp as the knife at his throat. While it was true that Jeffery still held the knife to the man's neck with unstaggering tension, he was not actually looking at the pilot at all. 

Instead, he was watching Laureen stand from her spot on the floor. She had a small scratch on the left side of her lips that looked like it was caused by a bad rug-burn. She also had a scrape on the side of her elbow, and a red mark that would probably turn into a bruise on her upper arm. 'She got that ruffed up just from falling over?' Jeff thought, but soon remembered just how much the helicopter had tipped forward, and realized that Laureen must have slid across the floor. As Laureen stood and walked back over to her seat, holding her arm with an annoyed look on her face, Jeff couldn't help but think about what he told himself earlier. 'It'll be a lot harder to get her to work with me in Arcos if she hates me.' He recalled the thought. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to say, as he wasn't used to trying to be considerate. 

"Are...you alright?" He asked Laureen. This surprised her, and her eyebrows raised as she looked in Jeffery's direction. She hadn't expected Jeffery to care about what happened to her at all. "Um...yeah, I'm fine..." Laureen replied, sitting down on her seat. Hearing this made Mathis worry even more, to the point that he thought he may have a heart attack. He hadn't meant to hurt the girl! What if Jeffery killed him after seeing his companion was hurt?! Mathis forced himself to start breathing again, even though the lump in his throat made it difficult to. He was paranoid, tense, expecting Jeff to suddenly cut him or hurt him, maybe kill him right then and there. He waited...but, to his surprise and relief, nothing came. Jeffery actually seemed calmer now that he spoke to his accomplice. 

'Now that I think of it...who is that girl?' Mathis thought, wondering who Jeff would possibly have traveling with him. He wasn't nearly brave enough or stupid enough to ask Jeffery any questions, but he was curious to know. He seemed to act differently towards her, after all. While it was apparent that he wasn't completely different around the girl, he was at least worried about her getting hurt, and changed his tone of voice (which Mathis didn't think was possible) just to talk to her. He thought back to earlier, about the two teen's argument. It almost sounded like...no, it really sounded like this if he was thinking about it correctly. His eyes narrowed slightly, as his own thoughts made Jeff appear even more twisted and devilish than before. 'Is he...forcing her to kill people?' He thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo! I'm so sorry, this took way longer than expected! But it's up now! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  
> I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading!


	13. Wheels Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The abandoned carnival isn't the best place to be running around.

The air was cool today, and clouds blocked out the heat of the bright afternoon sun. It was 4:30 in the evening at this point, and school had ended for the day. The clicking of shoes on the old sidewalk seemed to echo with the absence of company, and the only thing left to do on a nearly empty street was count the vast number of cracks in the cement. No one ever walked down this path anymore unless they were a delinquent, looking for a place to smoke weed in peace. A little bit further than the abandoned lots and cigarette butts was a carnival, just as abandoned as the rest of the place. The rides were broken down, the place wasn't visually appealing, and it had a terribly creepy atmosphere. 

Everyone generally stayed away from there, even going as far as to claim that the grounds are cursed. Despite this, Elise continued down the path of crooked sidewalk and unappealing sights. The only thing heard was her own shoes tapping against the cement, louder now as she skipped over a crack running through it. The school girl had mislead her mother and aunt into thinking that she needed to attend jiu jitsu practice today, though it was canceled due to the instructor being absent. Mr. Lerid had become involved with the case of a missing student from one of his other classes, and therefore left school far earlier than he usually would, effectively writing a rain-check towards his after school coaching.

Elise hummed softly to herself as she continued walking, stepping over the small destructions in her path. She was still in her school clothes with her jacket tied around her waist, backpack moving with her every time she took a step. Her ponytail brushed the back of her neck every time she took an extra large step, which she playfully did to avoid cracks. It was a fair attempt at trying not to focus on the scenery around her. Crumbling houses, crashed cars that were simply left behind, garbage and papers nearly everywhere, and slabs of leftover scrap metal or even roof tiles spread around the front yards.

The smell of drugs in the air made her skin crawl. She began softly singing, in order to keep herself in a nicer state of mind. It wasn't long before the houses began disappearing, replaced with empty, barren ground save for the small patches of grass scattered about. Elise felt content to raise her head now, and as she did, laid eyes on the huge carnival she was approaching. The fence was lined around the carnival from the corner of the sidewalk all the way down to the other corner, as if this section of road were made for it. 

In reality though, the carnival was made for the road. It was meant to be an attraction for people visiting Nescordo. Instead, it was the city's downfall. The rides were not properly checked before the carnival opened, and there were many problems with light shortages and broken machinery. Forty seven people died in the amusement park, and it was shut down. The owner of the place, Marcus Green, was killed not long after by a man who lost his daughter to one of the earlier accidents at the park. The father's arrest was all over the news at the time. The ownership fell onto Steven Mitchell, who didn't have the money to demolish the carnival.

No one would buy the amusement park and fix it since there had been so many deaths there, and only an idiot would buy something just to demolish it. So it was left standing, rusted gate now a terrible reminder of all the chaos that happened there. The same gate Elise now stood in front of. Slowly, she opened the squeaky gate, closing it behind her to make the entrance appear undisturbed. They looked out onto the dirt path through the tents and rides, where patches of grass and weeds grew undisturbed. 'Why was the theme here orange, white, and black?' Elise wondered, looking at the faded colors around her as she walked down the same trail she had last time.

She smiled a bit, remembering the jokes she told to Jack before, and the laughs she earned in doing so. She hoped that today she would be able to convince him to come out of hiding, though she understood that Jack may not trust her enough for that. She had been thinking about him off and on since their last conversation, wondering several different things. Maybe Jack really was abandoned here, maybe he ran away, or maybe he was a strange hermit who had lost touch with society. Perhaps he was delusional or needed some sort of mental aid.

Whatever it was, Elise was fairly certain that he needed some kind of help. Whether that be food and shelter or a mental hospital at this point in time, Elise didn't know. The mystery that now personally attached her to the carnival now kept her mind and heart occupied. She believed that she could make a difference here, and help this 'Jack' that she had recently become acquainted with. This drove her to return to the cursed grounds, though she was afraid that the group of punks and delinquents from before may find her here once again. 

For some reason, they had been absent from school since the night they chased her down here. She feared that they might have skipped school just to chase her down here again, and this time, have someone waiting inside the carnival for her. While it sounded a bit ridiculous, they had done something similar to a different student in the past. Those problem students were surprisingly cunning, and even more deceitful. The rumor around the school was 'every one of those delinquents have lied to the principle at least once and gotten away with it'.

While that was probably not true, it would seem that way if anyone ever saw them in action. Elise's thoughts halted as she stepped into the familiar circus tent. Broken down machines and old papers littered the area, along with some old dusty circus equipment. Elise did a double-take, looking back to something big and round that she hadn't seen before. It was mostly behind an old set of bleachers, which was dismantled and thrown in a large pile. Elise walked around the mount of bleacher seats, smiling as she saw just what the large wheel was. 

It was a unicycle, old and unused, covered in dust with the handle bars trapped under a tipped over machine, causing the wheel to be levered into the air. Elise slowly spun the old wheel and watched as it rotated, dust falling from the spokes. It gave her an oddly nostalgic feeling, even though she had never once been to a circus performance. She stood there silently, spinning the wheel again when it stopped moving, feeling almost captured by the sight. It reminded her of the carnival poster that her teacher saved from before this amusement park went down. 

BOOF! Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from above her. She jumped, looking around to find the source of the noise. The top of part of the tent was now caved in, outlining a shape atop the slightly stretched fabric. The shape moved a little, as if it were getting comfortable in a hammock. 

Elise's eyes widened, staying in place as the shuffling on the top of the tent stopped. A silent minute went by, before she raised an eyebrow at the indention in the ceiling of the tent. Slowly she began to walk forward, one step at a time, with long pauses in between them. Her eyes remained glued to that spot in the ceiling, until she reached the entrance of the circus tent. She kept her footsteps steady, trying to be completely silent as she walked out, slowing her breathing and raising her hands to her sides a little in an unconscious gesture of caution. 

She turned around the corner of the tent, suddenly freezing half-way. Her look of curiosity faded, replaced with one of fear and shock. There, lying upside-down on the low ceiling of the tent, was a very strange clown. He hung his arms and head down the side, face in the direction of the other tent in front of him, though his eyes were closed. His nose was shaped as a cone, colored in swirling stripes of black and white. His long black hair waved slightly in its place, and his long arms rested to either side of him, hanging loosely. He wore a clown costume, with a short black shirt and black pants with suspenders. 

What looked like wrapped folds of white fabric covered his stomach and part of his hands. Black, white, and grey feathers lined his shoulders in piles, which Elise recognized as the type of feather she found last time she was here. His skin was a sickly pale grey, and his ears were unnaturally curved upwards. Everything on him was colored in a monochrome fashion, from his big shoes to his nose. He was ungodly tall, even from his place on the tent, and his limbs were a bit too lengthy. This made him appear so unnatural, so strange to Elise, that the surprise of seeing him caused a breathless gasp to escape her.

The clown heard this, and his eyes snapped open. His head snapped over to her, emotion laced with surprise, ice blue eyes peering into her's. His eyes were the only things on him that were not colored in monochrome, and the pure contrast of it drew Elise's attention instantly. But she couldn't focus on that, and backed up as the clown looked her way. "W-wha? Wait a-" He muttered as began to move, forgetting that he was currently lying upside-down. 

He slipped from the top of the circus tent, falling on his head and upper back. The sound of the clown hitting the ground was enough to make Elise unroot herself from her frozen spot, and she immediately turned and ran as fast as she could back towards the front gate. Laughing Jack groaned a bit as he picked himself up, rubbing the back of his head, cautious of his own claws as he did. He could have teleported before he hit the ground, but seeing Elise took him by surprise. When had she even come into the carnival? 

He sighed as he listened to her departing footsteps. 'Greeeaaat. She saw me.' He thought to himself, groaning at the thought of now having to kill a teenager. They were never any fun to kill, and it would be even worse now, since Elise was sort of like a 'friend'. He wouldn't be able to learn any new jokes, or tell her the riddles he knew. Well, maybe he could as he was torturing her? That wouldn't last very long, though. He breathed out another childish sigh, teleporting to his usual spot on his ferris wheel, which was the highest point of the whole park.

He looked over the carnival with a bemused look, catching sight of Elise just as she ran behind a tent. He teleported to the side of that tent, quietly listening as Elise caught her breath. He heard something else too, which sounded like shuffling through her bag. Jack raised a brow, unsure of what she was doing until he heard the small beeping sounds of a number being typed in on a phone. He instantly turned the corner, smacking the phone out of the teenager's hands before she could select the call button.

Elise screamed, running back around the other side of the tent and away from the clown as fast as she could. She could feel pain in her hands, but ignored it as she hid to the side of a different tent. Jack followed behind, though not sprinting as she was. He thought of simply extending his arms around to grab her, but she had already hidden herself again. He frowned as he pictured her pinned up to the main circus tent's wall, stuffed with candies and face frozen in an expression of horror. 

It wasn't a very pleasing thought, as it usually was. Though admittedly, the thought of chasing her around the tents was pretty funny to him, and seeing her shocked face whenever she saw him. He followed the sound of Elise's breathing as she snuck around the sides and backs of tents, unsure of where the clown was. Jack himself walked along the path behind her slowly, before teleporting once the entrance gate was in view. He appeared on the side of the tent that Elise was coming up to, she herself feeling hopeful as she realized how close she was to the gate.

She was breathing heavily at this point, trying not to be any louder than she had to be as thoughts raced through her mind at full speed. Adrenaline and fear pumped through her veins, and her heart felt as though it would jump from her chest. All she could see in her mind was the clown's icy blue eyes staring at her with their piercing gaze.

She turned the corner of the tent, gate just coming into view a short distance away, when her face fell into terror once again. The clown was there, waiting on that side of the tent. He chuckled a little under his breath, finding her struggle amusing. She took of in a different direction, leaving the clown behind. Jack made a short 'pfhh' sound before laughing to himself. He was right, the expression she made was priceless! This may not be terrible after all. 

'Though it may have been better if she never saw me, and we kept telling jokes.' The thought rang in the back of his mind, but he shook it away. 'She would have found out sooner or later. Besides, I was going to get rid of her soon anyway. I don't want to get caught.' He assured himself. That reminded him of something, and he thought over it as he continued to follow Elise at a slower pace. Jeff was hiding two humans behind Slenderman's back, wasn't he? The old man the teenage girl that ran the head of a crowbar through his hand. Jack chuckled a little as he thought of that moment, feeling over the bandages on his hand even though the wound was long since healed. 

He appeared behind Elise suddenly, as she hid to the side of a tent. He stifled a giggle, but Elise heard him anyway, jumping as she turned around. He flashed a toothy grin, looking down on the teen and watching her eyes widen further. She gasped in shock and ran away again, this time trying to be faster as tears began gathering in her eyes. Jack turned in her direction, laughing freely and loudly as he relished in the expression Elise had. Oh, the look on her face! It was hilarious! Jack continued to follow her like a kid playing hide and seek, giggling a bit along the way. 

He teleported to the back of the tent Elise was at this time, and turned the corner to scare her again. But this time, Elise was already turning again. Jack raised a brow, walking around the corner as he heard Elise hiding inside the tent. It was the tent they had first started at, the storage place. It took all of his power not to laugh at that moment and give himself away already. How air-headed was this girl? He slowly and calmly walked into the tent, keeping his head low as he reached the machine Elise was always behind, crouching down.

A piece of paper and a blue pen had already been placed at the machine, most likely from when Elise first came in. He smirked, grabbing both objects and writing down a message. Carefully, he slipped the paper under the machine. It made Elise give out a small yelp; she wasn't expecting a paper to be brushing her leg as she laid there, curled into a ball on the ground. She sat up slowly, eyes on the paper. She hesitated to pick it up, instead staring at the scratches on her hands for a moment. They had been scratched by the monochrome clown when her phone was knocked from her hands as she tried to call her aunt. They were still bleeding, and a drop fell onto the paper before her.

'Hello there.' It read. 

She heard a small muffled snicker as a pen rolled under the machine. Her eyes widened. It sounded like the clown. Everything in her mind about Jack clicked all at once, from why he was at the carnival to why he had such a strange laugh. That freaky clown outside...was Jack. That...thing...couldn't possibly be mortal. To scared to speak, she picked up the pen and wrote her reply slowly, in shaky handwriting, as blood coated the section of pen she held. She slid the paper back under the machine, tears now escaping her eyes and rolling soundlessly down her cheeks as she tried not to make a sound.

'Are you human, Jack?'

She heard a loud laugh from the other side of the machine that made her jump, and a sob escaped her mouth. The laughing stopped, and the sound of paper being slowly balled up came from the other side. "Not at all." A chilling voice replied, and a terrible aura now loomed over her. A small chuckle echoed from above her, just loud enough to hear. Elise sobbed quietly, looking up in despair. A tall demonic clown smiled maliciously back at her from over the machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I've got the next chapter up this quickly! ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆  
> I had fun writing this one! Finally, Elise gets to see who she's been talking to! I hope the ending was suspenseful enough. XD  
> Thanks for reading! (*^_^*)


	14. The Tiger's Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the clown did what any bored clown would do.

Elise was frozen in place, eyes widened and staring into the clown's features. She didn't feel the tears falling down her cheeks, and couldn't will her limbs to move. Grounded to the spot, she gazed up at the grinning clown. His teeth were unnaturally sharp and pointed, seeming to threaten her as Jack's smile showed them off. His claws were visible over the machine, fingers resting on the top. They were long and dark, with little traces of her own blood on the tips. The clown did nothing but grin at her, eyes contracted and small like that of a madman. Elise felt a sob rising to her throat, and wanted nothing more than to run.

But she simply could not. The cruel fear that froze her in place was relentless. All she could do was stare. Jack chuckled a little again, one corner of his grin turning upwards. Slowly, his arm moved from the position it was in, raising over the machine. Elise watched, terrified, as the clown's hand began to reach down for her. This time, she heard herself whimper in fright. She wanted to scream; the hand was getting much closer. She could still not get her body to move. The clawed hand finally reached behind her, and a quick gasp of air escaped her as she felt it grab her bag, attempting to pull her up along with it. 

This finally motivated her body to move. She blinked, tears falling with it, and finally let out the loud scream she had been holding. Jack's hand halted as the girl screamed, and he stifled his laughter. That is, until his laughter was cut short. Elise kicked the machine as hard as she could, levering Jack's hand off of her bag, hitting him in the stomach and chest. He let out a grunt, stepping backwards a bit and catching the machine as it teetered forward. Elise scrambled through the opening she'd created, staggering to her feet, already going full speed as she made her way to the opening of the tent.

Jack giggled a bit, standing the machine back in its place, before his giggles broke into full-on laughter. "Hahaha, okay, give me a minute- hehe!" He mumbled to himself. Something about how sudden the machine hit him was amusing, and he had to take a moment to stop laughing. He followed Elise out of the tent as his laughter died down, watching as she ran down the path ahead. He chuckled, extending his arm towards the running girl, grabbing her bag. "AHH!" Elise shrieked as she was quickly pulled backwards. 

Jack held her in front of him, taking her bag off with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist a couple times. "Now, this has been fun Elise." He said in his brash voice as he let Elise's bag fall to the ground, "But it's about time to put an end to it." Elise kicked and struggled as Laughing Jack began walking back towards the other tents. "NO! NO! LET ME GO! PLEASE! LET ME GO!" She shrieked, desperately yelling to the freak dragging her deeper into the carnival. 

The arm around her waist looked so unnaturally long and unbent, it made her sick just looking at it. It coiled around her like a snake, in a tight hold that sent a panic running through her. She screamed bloody murder as she clawed and grasped at it, kicking and struggling, fighting as hard as she could to get out of Jack's grip. Jack simply held her farther from him as she kicked, so he wouldn't get hit, chuckling as he did. He heard her scream and cry until her voice began to rasp, as they approached one of the wider tents at the carnival colored in monochrome. 

His smile began to fade as he saw his tent come into view up ahead. It wasn't as though he necessarily wanted to kill Elise. She was a teenager, after all, which were generally no fun to torture. While her screaming was somewhat pleasant, it was not exactly the same as what he wanted to hear. She acted differently from a child as well. What a waste of someone so amusing when scared! The chase between tents was something very childish to do, and was much funnier than just catching her and being done with it. 

However...it would be better to get rid of her before anyone came by his carnival. There was no doubt in his mind that any of his fellow proxies would question him for killing a teenager, which they all knew he got no enjoyment from. He entered his tent, releasing the strings that held the entrance open, quickly throwing Elise to the middle of the ground so she wouldn't grab the outside of the tent in an effort to escape.

She landed with a 'thud', a breathless grunt escaping her as the ground connected with her spine. She took a moment to regain her breath, lying there, staring at the ceiling. But the ceiling...did not look right. A loud creak came from the entrance, which made her immediately sit up in a panic, watching Jack's movements. He was shutting a wooden door at the entrance, letting only a bit of light shine into the vicinity around him. The whole tent was lined with wood, which was held into the ground by the cement coating the floor. Elise began to frantically back away as Jack looked at her, unable to find the strength to get to her feet. 

Jack smirked, closing the door completely, plunging them both into darkness. Elise's eyes widened further, trying to see something in the sea of black that now flooded the tent. It was quiet, making Elise hyper aware of Jack's slow footsteps. She backed up a bit, expecting the clown to suddenly appear in front of her. Another footstep was heard on the cement. It made Elise jolt though it was further away from her, and a small sound of fear escaped her throat. 

Another step, still further. Another step, and another, and another, until there was a halt. Elise's breathing was heavy, fearful of Jack's every move, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Until a small 'click' brought light to the tent. Elise blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light, before they immediately went wide once again. Her mouth opened, but her scream was caught in her throat, arms shaking as she looked around the front walls of the tent. Bodies. Children's bodies were pinned up with nails to the wooden walls, split open and emptied of their innards. 

In the place of their intestines were piles of candy, filling the bottoms of the empty skins, and stuffed between the ribcages. The frozen expressions of horror and utter despair haunted the children's features, some with dead eyes staring upwards. Blood splatters and blotches covered the walls around them, some spaces empty with bits of skin still hanging on the nails pinned into the wall. It was horrifying. Laughing Jack watched Elise's reaction with a large smile, enjoying the terror and disgust written in her features. 

He always enjoyed this part. Letting his victims see what was to become of them. What lined all the walls, what sat in the top lines of the bleachers. Two corpses sat on either side of the red curtain that exited the circle of seats, which used to lead out elephants and dancers. He found it funny to put a child in a ballerina outfit on one side, and a boy in elephant pajamas on the other. Elise seemed to be frozen once again, save for her terrified shaking. Jack chuckled, making Elise instantly snap her head to his place beside the lever that controlled the lights. 

She feared him even more now; he could see it in her eyes. He grinned at her in return, beginning to walk towards her slowly. "What? Don't you like it?" He chuckled out, relishing in the way Elise began to scramble away. "s-s-stay..stay away! STAY AWAY!" She screamed as she found her voice, shaking her head and backing up from the freak clown. Fresh tears poured down her face, and her eyes reflected a desperate plead for help. Jack laughed a little, and halted where he stood, putting his hands up in a mock surrender as Elise continued to move away. She froze suddenly, horrified as she watched Jack disappear from his place in a puff of black smoke. 

Her eyes followed the dust as it slowly fell to the ground, hyperventilating and shaking, mouth dry and eyes stinging with tears. She began to sob quietly, eyes still glued to the dust that now started to disappear on its own, palms burning with the wound Jack had inflicted. She felt a breeze at her back, and a looming feeling of dread came over her. She stuttered in gasps, heart beating so fast that it hurt, shaking so badly that it could be mistaken for shivering. "Boo." Jack said, right beside her ear. She screamed and scrambled away, Jack's laughter booming as she finally made it to her feet. 

She ran for the door, only to see that the bolt keeping it locked was too high for her to reach. She stared at the lock for a moment, as the feeling of her world crashing down flooded her mind. She pulled at the the handle of the door uselessly, twisting it and using all her strength trying to open the door. "Open! No! Open! Let me out! Please! Let me out!" She yelled, voice raspy from all her screaming. After a minute of trying, she became filled with despair and the feeling of being utterly lost, kicking the door and banging on it with her fists. 

She sobbed loudly, hopelessly, crying to the unforgiving door. "Please! Please, please..." She begged, voice its loosing volume as she sobbed. Her fists came to simply rest on the door as she stared at them through her tears, accepting that there was nothing she could do. This is how she would die, by the hands of a monster, alone in the the carnival. "Finally realized how pointless it was?" Jack inquired with an amused tone. He was right behind her. Elise said nothing, crying as she felt herself go weak, not daring to look at the murderous clown. 

Jack's grin soon faded as he realized Elise's will to live had finally been dimmed. She had would have no more screams or amusing expressions to give right now. Not if she remained unharmed. Jack stood for a moment, listening to her sob as her shoulders rose and fell with her stuttered breathing. He didn't feel the need to torture her, even though she had been very funny up to this point. He didn't want to see her pinned up to the wall or up in the bleachers, but rather, wanted to continue seeing her run around uselessly or attempt an escape. That was what made her amusing, unlike what made children amusing. 

As he stared, he noticed the blood that now continued to drip from in between Elise's fingers. When had she even gotten hurt? He huffed a short laugh at how careless she was, before finally deciding on what to do. He coiled his arm around her waist, lifting her away from the entrance. Elise let her arms fall from the door, electing to stare at the ground to prevent herself from seeing the corpses on the walls. 'I'll be one of those soon...' She thought, eyes watering up again. 'It'll hurt.' She told herself, repeating it over and over again in her mind, preparing herself for what was about to come.

She couldn't stop thinking about how terrible the pain would be, how the nails would pierce her skin and pin her to the bloodied wood. How many people she was leaving behind, and how much they would miss her. What would happen to her after death? Was there really a heaven and hell, or simply an endless black? She was scared...so very scared, but so very exhausted as well. She felt something brush her ears, and looked up to see a red curtain closing behind them. She heard a metallic 'clank', along with a short creak, sent a rush of panic to her again.

It was greatly unbalanced with her sorrow. Jack then brought her forward, setting her down in a...cage? A large metal cage backed into the upper corner of the room, big enough for her to stand in if she wanted to. Jack closed the door of the cage and latched it, shutting the combination lock on it as well. Elise watched him through the bars as he sighed, grabbing the straps of his suspenders out of habit as he returned the stare. The two of them stayed quiet for a minute, before Laughing Jack broke the silence. "They used to keep the tigers in that cage." He said.

Elise simply stared, mouth agape, not knowing what to say or do. Or feel, for that matter. She was afraid and confused. Wasn't Jack about to kill her? Why would he put her in a cage? Why wasn't he hurting her, or threatening her, or even trying to scare her? Why did he mention the tigers? What was going on? Jack didn't provide any answers, instead reaching to the metal shelves beside him against the wall. Each shelf held boxes and jars of unlabeled candies, though he knew what each of them were.

He reached into one of the jars and pulled out a small lollipop with two of his claws. He unwrapped it, discarding the paper on the floor along with many other wrappers, popping the candy into his mouth. He held the stick of the lollipop in his teeth, putting the jar back onto the metal shelf. He looked back to Elise, who still sat unmoving in the cage. She looked confused, afraid, and tired. Jack frowned a bit. If he had to pick an expression he hated the most, it would be confusion. While it could be funny at times, there were more times it just made whoever was confused look stupid. 

The 'tired' look was also annoying. Nothing ever happened when someone was tired. It always made them so boring until they got their oh-so-precious sleep. Why was sleep vital for humans? It was nice and relaxing, sure, but why did they need that luxury to actually survive? It was strange. He could understand why they needed food; even he found food quite useful for reenergizing himself or bringing his strength back, though he didn't actually need it to continue living. But sleep? It was far too confusing to wrap his head around.

Twirling his lollipop in his mouth, he smirked at Elise. "Get some rest." He said, brash voice making his words sound a little more sinister than they usually would. And with that, he left the room, red curtains falling back into place behind him. Elise blinked. 'Get some rest'? Why would that matter? Why hadn't he hurt her by now? She figured she should be thankful for not being killed, but she couldn't believe that it was not still going to happen. Her mind raced with questions, and small theories to provide answers.

Perhaps this was a trick, and he would be back any minute to kill her. Maybe he was trying to kill her in her sleep. Maybe he was trying to fool her into thinking she would be alright. Her eyes fell to her hands, which were bloodied with her injuries, that had stopped bleeding once she had been pulled away from the door. She couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into. She came back the carnival believing she could help this 'Jack', only to find that he was an inhuman murderous clown. And where was she now? In a cage, held prisoner by him. She lifted her head, looking around the room she was in.

It was about the size of her living room back at home, walls once again lined with wood. The only difference was that the ceiling was left uncovered, the rays of the afternoon sun shining through the tent being the only form of lighting. There were a few different cages stacked atop each other in the corner opposite from her, along with some old slabs of metal. Shelves of candies lined the room, though most of the surfaces had a few other things on them as well. A single wooden chair sat beside a particular shelf on the other side of the room. That was it. 

'How creepy...is this the candy he puts inside those corpses?' Elise thought, remembering the dead children in the next room. She shook the thought away, leaning against the bars of her cage, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She stared at the floor with worried eyes as she thought over everything that happened to her. Everything that would most likely happen to her in the future. She would be just like those children...just a corpse pinned to the wall and spilling candy like a piñata. She could have never imagined anything that gruesome before now. 

Why did this have to happen? Why had she been so stupid as to come here again? She should have told someone about Jack. Then maybe, she could have stopped his murdering ways entirely by having professionals go and find him instead of trying to help him on her own. They would have probably been able to take him on, with the help of the police. Instead, not only would she die, but many other children would continue to be killed. She could have prevented this...she could have stopped all this. She unwrapped her jacket from her waist, shakily putting it on to shield herself from the cold metal of the cage as much as she could.

She felt an enormous guilt weight down on her from her previous thought, as she rested her arms back over her knees. She could have intervened, but she didn't think it through. So now, she was dying with children's blood on her hands, the ones who would inevitably be murdered due to her mistake. Guilt, hopelessness, sadness...this was all she felt throughout the night rest of the night, huddled close to herself in the corner of the cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaaayyyy! The chapter's up! The suspense has been satisfied! XD  
> This one got a bit gruesome with the imagery, so I apologise if it was a bit much for some viewers. I tend to put a lot of detail into my gore writing. X-P  
> As always, Thanks for reading! (^_−)−☆


	15. Pray For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the landing scene in Arcos.

It's amazing how sitting in annoyance for long enough can drain yourself of the feeling. Eventually, Laureen had wallowed in it for so long that it all melted back to the anxiousness and sadness she had felt before. The scratches on her elbow and lip stung in the cool air of the helicopter, but she made no move to cover them. Instead, she sat quietly with her knees up to her chest, arms crossed over them. No words were exchanged between her and Jeffery, much less between them and the pilot, causing a looming silence felt by everyone aboard the copter. However, they all comprehended it differently. For Laureen, it was a dead silence.

A silence without emotion, other than the vague sense of sadness and wrong doing. To Mathis, it was a deadly silence. A silence filled with terror, doubt, regret, and depression. Jeff felt neither the dead nor deadly silence. To him, it was a more violent silence. An aggravated and tired silence. There was no sense of danger or wrongness, but rather, confusion and boredom. The confusion came from him trying to understand Laureen's flawed thought process, which bled back into a lingering aggravation. And frankly, the trip was long and uninteresting; it bored him.

While a part of him longed to make conversation, he had no idea what to say to Laureen, and was still trying to be cautious of Mathis. There had not been many pilots who were stupid enough to pull something in the first hour, and though he was unmoving for now, Jeff couldn't tell if he was planning something. But for some reason, it was hard to focus on that. It was hard to focus on anything. His thoughts jumped between Malachi, Laureen, and his fellow proxies. He began to wonder how long he could stay away from the Slender Household without drawing Slenderman's attention to him.

This wouldn't even be worth staying for if it wasn't for Malachi. Jeff didn't know why the old man was so persistent about Laureen. It was obvious that she seemed to have the certain symptoms of a murderer itching to kill, but Jeff never imagined Malachi agreeing to it, much less enforcing it. He wondered if Laughing Jack would drop by again, and if he would keep Jeff's secret safe. Neither of them have ever done well with Slenderman's rules, and had even broken some of those rules together, so he imagined Jack would keep his mouth shut. 'Now let's just hope he doesn't tell BEN.' Jeff thought somewhat bitterly. 

BEN was a decent guy, though he was a hermit who seemed to favor video games over people. Jeff hadn't personally had a problem with the elf until midway through last year, when BEN had witnessed him stealing another proxy's property. Instead of simply keeping it to himself, BEN told Slenderman about the incident, causing Jeff to get some major restrictions for the rest of the year. Needless to say, there was some...aggressive air between them now. But there was still a need for caution. Laughing Jack and BEN were great friends, and had known each other longer than Jeff had. They still saw each other every other day, be it at the carnival or at the house.

Jeff was hoping that bond wouldn't convince the clown to start up a conversation about the ridiculous errand he was running. The errand he was running for a human. None of the proxies were human anymore, though most of them had been once, but the term was still used loosely. The phrase 'I'm only human' or 'all humans make mistakes' was uncommon to hear...unless the owner of the household was in the room. The Slenderman had specific ideas of what was human and what was not, and in his book, the proxies fell very much under the category of inhuman.

So he never referred to them as human, instead only using the word literally. It was used very literally when it was clearly stated in one of the strict rules of the household. 'Do not become involved with humans any more than necessary'. Laureen and Malachi were most certainly human of course, and he was involved with each of them way more than what was acceptable. How crazy could he be to risk his life for some human? How insane was it to disobey Slenderman because of some human? How dare he agree to the requests of some human? 'To be fair...he isn't exactly 'some human'." Jeff thought to himself. It was true that he held exceptions for Malachi, due mainly to something that happened during Jeff's stay with him.

Jeffery couldn't deny that he owed Malachi, so instead of letting it sit at the back of his mind forever, why not get it over with now? It just so happened to be taking his 'daughter' to Arcos, letting her take care of the criminal situation, and then returning her when she was cured of her symptoms. 'Much easier said than done.' He thought, glancing at the girl hugging her knees on the metal seat of the helicopter. It would have been much simpler if Laureen didn't have the certain ideals that she had. You'd think someone living in this world for long enough would understand that it wasn't exactly merciful.

Especially someone who had killed three of their classmates. That thought led him back to trying to understand her...which was aggravating. He banished the thought from his mind, as he had contemplated it too many times for it to be considered anything worthwhile now. He directed his attention to the windshield of the helicopter, looking out at the view. It had gotten dark over time, but he fixed his eyes on a few lights that stuck out to him through the night. In the far distance, he could see the borders of Arcos.

The mass was a blend of dry dirt and a few trees, though it clearly did not have as many as the space surrounding it. Below them now were groups of trees, which had a few clearings in them due to the trees either being dead or chopped down for Arcos to use. Among these clearings were professional things that had been built further away from the city, such as a jail and a landing strip for a plane (the last of which went much further than the last). But the most important of these was the helicopter landing pad, which had a large white 'H' on it that was visible even now.

There was a building beside it, which was terribly smaller than it really should have been, and a parking lot beside that. There were only seven cars parked there, from what Jeff could see, suggesting that there weren't many people in the building. That was perfect. It would take longer for them to investigate if there were barely any people, since they were most likely consumed by the workload. Jeff looked over to Mathis, who he held his knife to a little more haphazardly than before, and smirked. He fixed his grip on the weapon, leaning closer to the pilot.

"Don't f**k this up." He warned, though it would ultimately amount to nothing in the end. Mathis said nothing, eyes now fallen in sadness and acceptance. He felt his eyes begin to water again as he slowed down, flipping a switch to allow the helicopter to travel downwards and onto the landing pad. He forced himself not to let the tears escape him, knowing what was to become of him, not wanting to loose himself in this moment. The helicopter slowly moved again, shorting the length between it and the landing pad more and more every second. 'There are worse ways to die.' He thought, 'My family knows that I loved them. My kids will go on without me, and will succeed in whatever it is they find for themselves.

My wife...please, let my wife be happy even with me no longer by her side.' He was almost startled when all he could see was the trees, and an old road leading to Arcos that was barely noticeable through the darkness. He knew that road. He remembered driving down it for the last fifteen miles of his trip to Arcos, with his wife beside him in the passenger seat. Her golden hair...her smooth voice...her smile when he told her that the drive was nearly over...he would never get to see those things again. 

The helicopter hit the landing pad ungracefully, making Jeff change his footing and Laureen put her feet down to stay upright. Laureen looked terribly anxious and saddened. It was annoying, so Jeff didn't spend much time looking at her. He looked back to Mathis, who's eyes were now a bit wider, staring out the windshield as he heard the propellers slow and come to a stop. Jeff grinned madly, suddenly changing his approach, taking a couple steps backwards. Mathis was breathing heavily in slow, steadied breaths, lost in his own world. Though he wasn't lost enough not to notice the lingering weapon no longer being held to his neck.

He felt his throat relax more, and confusion overtake him. But he was frozen to the spot, unable to move from his seat. Whatever emotion rooted him there, he could barely discern it anymore. Laureen looked to Jeff, wondering just what he was doing. Would he...let the pilot go? Was that even possible for him? Maybe he would because she was here? This little glimmer of wishful thinking was crushed instantly when she saw the killer's smile. He was grinning widely, eyes fixed on the pilot, flipping his knife twice in his hand. "Stand up." He said to Mathis, voice showing hints of amusement and something close to excitement. 

The pilot's eyes widened, staring at his hands. They seemed glued to the steering wheel, and his whole body felt still, as though it were now part of the helicopter itself. "NOW!" Jeff snapped, and that was enough for feeling to come rushing back through Mathis' limbs. He retracted his hands from the steering wheel as if it had burned him, his heart picking up pace again as he stared at the wheel. Slowly, he willed himself to stand, putting his hands up shakily in surrender, though he could barely seem to lift them.

Jeff's grin widened at this. The sight almost made him want to laugh, but the feeling of adrenaline flowing through him overtook it. "Open. The. Door." He said, pointing his knife to Mathis, as though he would charge the pilot at any moment. Mathis stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher what the teen was planning, eyes no longer widened as he tried to keep himself from feeling the pressure Jeff's insane look pushed on him. Slowly, he began walking, making his way over to the helicopter door.

He forced himself to keep his hands steady as he opened the large door of the helicopter, letting it fall open. It reveled the darkness of outside, and the trees that surrounded them. Jeff allowed his grin to settle back into a pleased smirk, feeling more conscious of Laureen, who still sat on the metal seat behind him. "Now...run." He said, watching in amusement as the pilot's face feel into a look of realization. Mathis took a step back, feeling shocked. Jeff was going to chase him. Chase him into the forest and kill him there. Mathis watched the killer's brow raise. "What are you waiting for?" The killer said, pausing to laugh a bit, before his grin returned, "RUN!" Mathis' eyes widened again, and without a second thought, ran out of the helicopter.

Into the trees in front of him. Jeff chuckled a little as he watched this, looking to Laureen over his shoulder, unable to force his grin down. "Stay here." That was the only thing he said to her before rushing out of the vehicle, closing the door with a slam, leaving her sitting there alone. Her eyes stayed fixed on the shut door for several moments, before she curled her knees back up to her chest, hiding her face. 

Outside, Mathis ran for his life, trying to think of a plan to escape. He didn't have much faith to put into his speed, as he was never extremely fast. Definitely not fast enough for this. He began running a different direction, remembering how the trees surrounded the entire clearing. If he could just make it to the building on the other side, he would be saved! He just had to loose Jeff in the trees. As if on cue, a rustling sound came from behind him.

'Keep running! Keep running!' He thought, continuing in this new direction as fast as his legs would take him. That is, until he couldn't run that fast anymore, breathing heavily as he hid behind a tree. He looked around. There were only trees surrounding him, and he had no idea how deep into the forest he was. He didn't know where Jeff was, either. Forcing himself off of the tree, he ran back towards the clearing. He didn't know that he was running in a crooked line rather than straight ahead, but he wouldn't have cared either way. He kept running, kept thinking he would be out if the trees any minute now, but the clearing seemed to be further away than he thought it was.

He heard a branch snap somewhere to his left, and jumped at the sound, running faster and more towards the right. He was becoming out of breath, and depressing thoughts were catching up with him. But they were dispelled as he began to catch sight of something through the mass of trees. He tried to run faster, but his legs were sore and he simply couldn't pick up his pace, even as he got closer and closer to something that was clearly not more trees. It was the side of the building. He had made it! He felt himself slow down a bit at this realization, catching sight of the back door the building had.

A light was on inside; he could see it through the small window the door had. Nearly out of the trees, the building wasn't very far, he could see nearly all of it from there! Just a bit further, just a little more! He was panting, trying to catch his breath, finally slowing to a walk. He couldn't run anymore, as his lungs greedily stole all the air they possibly could. His eyes were fixed on the back door of the building, just out past only about five or six trees more. Then he heard a rustle and a 'thump', much louder than what he heard before.

Three leaves fell a little ways in front of him, and a looming terror came over him. His legs got heavier as he continued to walk, much slower now, mechanically. He lifted his head slightly, to see the tree that he was approaching on his left. The sight made him halt his walking. Jeff was there, crouching on a branch in the tree, one of the others shaking from him jumping off of it. His eyes were contracted and small, breathing almost as heavily as Mathis was, though he made no sound. He wore a full-blown smile, the cuts in his face making it look unnaturally wide in the darkness.

His hair was flung around widely, pushed back by the wind as he had lept from trees once he knew what Mathis was doing. The deranged teen began to chuckle as Mathis spotted him, pulling his knife out from the pocket of his white hoodie. Whichever way Mathis went, he knew there was no hope left for him. If he ran for the building, Jeff would jump from the tree and kill him. If he ran back into the woods, Jeff would follow him in and kill him there. So he stood, scared, letting the tears well up in his eyes as he took in a shaky breath. There was a horrible silence, where neither of them moved and neither of them made a sound.

Mathis knew...he could tell that something would happen once one of them broke the silence. The minute he moved, the minute he did anything, the minute a sound escaped his throat. Jeff was waiting for it. Waiting with those terrible bloodshot eyes and his widened smile, knife in hand as he held himself to the branch with the other. Staring at him. Watching him. Daring him to move. Mathis held the killer's gaze, feeling his will deplete from him, and his muscles relax. He let his widened eyes fall into a normal position, tears still gathered in them, blurring the face of his murderer.

He accepted his fate, knowing there was nothing he could do, taking this silence to have his last prayer. 'Lord...watch over my family. Bring them a good life...let them all find happiness. Guide their path. And...have mercy on my soul.' He closed his eyes tightly, and took a step backwards. 'Amen.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me longer than I thought it would, but here it is! ＼(^o^)／  
> Sorry if it's sad. Ah, poor Mathis. But you knew it would happen eventually. （＾ν＾）  
> Thanks for reading! (*^_^*)


	16. Lies and Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laureen doesn't take Mathis' death very easily. Jeff, on the other hand, takes it exceptionally well.

At some point, Laureen's vision had drifted back towards the helicopter door. She looked at it with worry and anticipation, as if something was about to come through it. In the back of her mind, she hoped that something would be the pilot. The pilot who came back into the safety of the helicopter, and flew it away as Jeff was still aimlessly searching in the forest. Of course, she would leave the helicopter if that happened and let him escape.

She was a criminal after all, and was supposed to be in jail. She couldn't accompany him on his flight to get whatever authority's attention he would be going to. Laureen's eyes narrowed at the door. It probably wasn't even possible that the pilot would return. She saw the crazed smile on Jeff's face just as well as the poor guy did. The intent to kill in his eyes. The way his body was positioned, as if he was just itching to lunge at his newest victim.

Laureen hugged her knees a bit closer, still staring at the door. Jeff had probably already killed him by now. It was probably an awful, brutal death that the pilot hadn't deserved. She tried for a moment to force that thought out of her mind, but gave up when it stubbornly remained there, as if it were mocking her. That thought coupled with the silence in the vehicle made the atmosphere terribly depressing. It was the same feeling she had tried to push away from herself, but there was no running from it now.

It caught up to her...just as Jeff probably caught up to the pilot. She prayed that the pilot could run at the speed of an Olympic professional, though the odds of that being true were not in her favor. Another thought stemmed from that. What would she do if the pilot really did escape? She would undoubtedly be in trouble when the authorities figured out that she was still alive. Jeff would probably ditch her and remain uncaught. But the pilot...he would be alive.

'That pilot probably had a loving family, and friends. He had things to live for. He had a purpose, and wasn't supposed to die to the hands of a murderer.' Laureen thought, feeling her eyes water a bit. This was blood on her hands, wasn't it? Just like the blood of those three girls. If she hadn't killed them, she would never have met Malachi, and would have never ended up going to Arcos. She shook her head, shaking the thought away.

'No. I can't think like this right now. While it is...mostly my- no, partly my fault, I'm not the one who killed him. If it were just me here, he would still be alive. So it isn't entirely because of me.' She reasoned with herself, eyes falling back to the door. She felt a little dissatisfied with that explanation...but she didn't have much time to ponder it. The door opened, and Jeff stepped in. Laureen's eyes widened. 'Why are my eyes widening? I knew he'd look like this.' A voice in the back of her mind spoke.

Yes, she knew he'd look like this...but to see it in front of her...the blood, and the knife still in his hand...how was she supposed to stay completely calm? There were bloodstains on the front of his hoodie, on his hands, a bit on his pant legs too. His knife glistened with fresh blood as well. His hair looked more wild, as if he had been doing flips or something. It was pulled away from his face, and sticking up in a few places. He had a satisfied smirk, which was made wider by his cuts.

Jeff saw Laureen's expression as he was stepping into the helicopter, forcing his thoughts into a battle. Part of him wanted to act more crazed than he was, just to freak her out. Another part of him wanted to hide every trace of what he had done. Which was stupid, since he didn't care about how he looked. Laureen already knew he was a killer, so why would hiding the evidence change anything? Still, he was a little more motivated to put his knife away this time as he slid it into his hoodie pocket.

The smirk remained glued to his expression though. He was definitely satisfied with the murder he committed, and kept picturing the pilot's face. Stabbing and cutting away at his victim had given Jeff a similar feeling to being high. It was an exciting, adrenaline filled high...and was undeniably addictive. There was no need to think in that one moment, that moment where the victim was completely helpless and doomed.

That's what still lingered in Jeff's mind, as he couldn't kill the delight and satisfaction he felt from that one scene, which stayed lingering in his mind. "Let's check the boxes. There might be something useful!" He suggested to Laureen. His voice sounded more energetic now, even a bit playful, though he didn't bother changing it. Laureen simply stared, not saying anything, face blank save for her widened eyes. Jeff rolled his eyes, smile still not falling.

"Fine, fine, I'll do it then." He said, as though he was conceiting. He looked around at the boxes, before going over to a stack of two large ones, looking for a way to open it after cutting the stretchy red fabric that fastened it to the floor. The wooden crate was firmly shut by the slab of wood that made up the top side, fastened down by the nails around the edges. Jeff made a small thoughtful hum, before pulling out his knife again and leveling it with one of the nails.

He put the backside of the blade under the nail as best he could, and then twisted the knife upwards, resulting in the nail being pried from the wood. He let out a grunt as he put his strength towards getting the next nail out, smirk falling into something more like a content grin. He let the two nails fall to the metal ground as he worked on the third one, unaware that the sound had made Laureen flinch. He grunted again as he dug out a particularly stubborn nail, muttering to himself "Tsk, if only we had a crowbar.".

Laureen barely heard it, but it was enough to send a wavering chill up her spine. It made her shiver, and her eyes narrowed at Jeffery, though she didn't know if he had said that on purpose. She wasn't simply mad at him for what he said, but that little spark off anger set of a whole explosion of rage in her mind. She was enraged at Jeff for so many things. For intruding on her life, for being so rude, for looking down on her. For killing the pilot, and having the nerve to feel smug about it.

Another nail fell to the floor, and the sound made her more ware of how she was staring angrily at Jeff. She had even changed her position without noticing, leaning towards the killer as though she were about to lunge after him. She sat up normally, setting her feet on the ground instead of having them pulled up with her on the seat. She glared at Jeff, his back turned to her, still feeling her anger and disdain building in her chest.

Another nail fell. 'What would Malachi think?' A thought rose from the back of her mind. It almost made her flinch just from the suddenness of it, but that quickly melted into a feeling of aggravation. Who cares what Malachi would think? Why did her thoughts regarding Jeff always fall back to Malachi? She personally couldn't see whatever it was her guardian saw in this killer. This strange, sadistic, psychotic, inhumane murderer.

The ping of another nail falling seemed to echo in the helicopter now. Each one of those little clatters seemed to throw her thoughts on a slightly different direction, some of which raising her level of anger. Thirty five nails. Thirty five sounds of metal connecting with metal, until Jeff finally let out a pleased victory sound. It sounded something like a chuckle, though it was more like him simply saying 'Haha' with an amused tone.

The corners of the top slab of wood were now slightly stained in places from the blood that was on the killer's knife, though he took very little notice to it. He changed his position to the side of the box, stepping over a few nails and putting the pads of his hands to the side of the wooden lid. He then proceeded to push the now unhinged top off of the box, letting it tilt and hit the ground, propped up against the crate.

He paused for a moment, before letting out an impressed whistle, staring at whatever was in the crate. "Hey, get over here. Come see this." He said, talking to the only other person there. His side was facing Laureen now, so she could see the impressed look on his face from where she sat. She raised a brow, an unamused and aggravated look on her face. "What?" She spat out in a bratty tone, making Jeff almost roll his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to be angry at her right now.

"Just come look!" The small tint of childish excitement in his voice caught Laureen off guard. The atmosphere he gave off was so different from hers right now...it just made the air feel awkward and unbalanced. Without another word, she slowly stood from her seat, feeling a little out of place due to their contrast. She walked over to the front of the crate, where Jeff had been standing a moment ago, and looked in. Her eyes widened. Guns rested inside the box.

They were piled on top of each other a bit haphazardly, and without order. There were all sorts, from big and small, complex and simple. There weren't enough to fill the crate, but if she had to guess the number, it wouldprobably be around thirty. Large letters were painted onto one side of the interior of the crate in white, reading 'N.R'. N.R? What in the world was N.R? "...What..?.." She continued to stare at the guns, simply because they had done such a thorough job in catching her attention.

"Don't know." Jeff replied, as if picking up on a silent question, "This isn't a military copter or anything. It should've just been normal stuff, like fabrics or grocery stocks." He looked around to the other crates, wondering if the rest of them also held weapons. He was hoping that at least one of them held food, since they had actually already eaten most of what he packed. That was during their walk to the helicopter pad and occasionally during the...hostage situation, when Jeff would literally eat a small snack right in front of the pilot, as if mocking him.

He didn't know if Laureen had eaten much of anything, since she took about an hour just to go through one bag of...what had she even eaten? Chips? He didn't know. All he knew is that they only had enough food left for a dinner, possibly a breakfast as well, and he was not keen on having to ration them throughout the days they stayed here. It may take a week to completely off the entirety of the corporation; it was preferable for him not to be having to sneak into the market and snatch some edibles.

He flipped his knife in his hand with practiced ease, going over to one of the boxes further back. There were not many boxes, maybe only ten or fifteen. It only seemed like there were more because the boxes were big, taking up lots of space in the back of the copter. Laureen's eyes turned up to him as he moved, but fell again as she watched him begin to cut the red fabric holding the box to the latches.

It broke with an audible snapping sound, and the killer then went straight to work on prying the nails out of the wood. Laureen stared down at the guns they had uncovered, as if doing so would magically uncover all the answers of their origins. Was the pilot smuggling these? This was supposed to be a normal supplies shipment to Nescordo, wasn't it? Maybe he was hiding them for this 'N.R'? In that case...maybe he was a criminal. Maybe he hadn't deserved as much freedom as she thought.

As a nail dropped to the floor from the killer's persistent prying, she shook the thought from her head. No, even if he was a criminal of sorts, that pilot did not deserve death. Everyone has their reasons for committing an act, even if it is a crime. She waited silently as Jeff continued to pry the nails out of the box, wallowing in her thoughts which zipped relentlessly from place to place, emotion to emotion. The sound of the wooden lid falling to the floor was enough to snap her out of her trance.

"Oh, nice!" Jeff exclaimed as he looked into the crate, seemingly pleased. "What is it? More...guns?" Laureen asked, bitter tone to her voice. Her brain screamed for her to be more harsh with Jeff, but she couldn't find the strength to pour her rage into what she was saying. "Nope!" Jeff answered as if he hadn't heard the undertone of her voice. He reached into the crate, shifting around a few things, which caused a series of clanking sounds before he picked up a few things to examine them.

A nail gun, a needle scaler, and a pneumatic torque wrench were observed and then set aside in the box, as Jeff seemed to find something else more interesting. "Here, catch!" He said as he lifted something from the box, tossing it to her. She fumbled, but caught it in fear of it landing on her foot instead. It instantly felt familiar, and she looked down at the long object that now rested in her hands. A crowbar. It seemed brand new, crafted from grey metal and looking unused.

Her eyes widened at it, gaze intent as if staring it down, flashes of shock and uneasiness running through her. She froze there for a few moments before her emotions finally settled on offense, sending a cold look to Jeff. "...Why would you give me this?" She asked darkly, glaring icy daggers. "For the boxes, d**b-a*s." He replied, not even looking towards her, though he heard the dark tone she sported. He was instead going through the other tools for something else he could use.

Laureen would be most comfortable using the crowbar, after all, due to her past of handling it. He didn't really care if she was offended or not. Laureen stood silently for a moment, watching Jeff as he shifted around other metal things in the crate. Eventually he seemed happy with something he found near the bottom, grinning as he pulled it from the contents of the box. It was a strange-looking tool, with the handles bent upwards and protected by red foam fabric.

The head of the tool looked like that of a pair of pliers, and now that she saw it properly (Jeff was walking towards another box with the tool in hand) the whole thing really looked like a weird, long, bent plier. Jeff positioned the head of the tool as much as he could under a nail. He then gripped the two handles together and pushed them down, causing the head to be pried upwards with the nail firmly in its grasp.

He did that one more time, and the nail was out fairly quickly. Quicker than the job the knife had been doing, anyways. 'But a knife is quick at what it's made for.' A little whispering thought rose to the back of her mind, and she suddenly felt a bit nauseous. She looked down at the crowbar in her hands as though it was an old friend that always got her into trouble. It was a wavering look, unsure and relaying the feeling of self doubt and inquiry.

She didn't know why the crowbar made her feel more confident, or why she was so comfortable with it. If anything, she should be more disturbed by it, or feeling guilty about what she did all that time ago. But the thought lost more and more of its effect the more it crossed her mind, and it had taken a majority of her attention many times in the past. It was a dull thought now, dimly connected to her sorrow and guilt.

"You know, any time you want to make his a team effort, you can pitch in." Jeff said in an annoyed tone, breaking Laureen out of her thoughts. She looked to him, that same hatred she felt before sparking inside her. She now had a weapon in her hands, which made her at least somewhat dangerous despite Jeff's superior experience. Not to mention his knife, which was probably more effective than a crowbar. She would lose any fight they had.

But that didn't stop her from seriously contemplating whether or not she'd try to ram her weapon into his head. As he pulled another nail from the crate, nearly finished with one side of it already, he seemed to realize something. He then chuckled a little, in an innocent way that reminded Laureen of the first time he had heard him laugh. It was unexpectedly pure, and threw the hateful mindset she was in off a little.

"You aren't even gonna get mad at that one?" He asked her as he pulled another nail from the wood of the crate. She felt confused, which directly went against the kindling fire of hatred welling inside her. "...Mad at what?" She asked in a bemused tone, wishing she could work up the courage to be much, much harsher to the murderer in front of her. "Y'know, me saying you could pitch in?" His tone had an underlying sense of amusement.

Laureen went blank for just a moment, before realizing what he was saying. It was a pun on her last name. She gave him a very unamused look, feeling annoyed and conflicted beyond belief. Her despise clashed with the atmosphere just enough to make her feel incredibly pent-up and irritate; this stupid, childish, perfectly harmless pun that just fell from the killer's mouth wasn't helping her mind at all. She huffed a bit as Jeffery started to chuckle again, turning towards a box a little off to her right.

She had to do something, anything besides simply standing there and wallowing in her aggravating emotions. She craned the head of the crowbar under a nail and pried it upwards, and with a surprisingly huge burst of strength, pulled the entire nail out of the wood by wrenching the crowbar outwards in a fit of irritation. She did the same for the next two, catching Jeff's attention as one of the nails went flying off to the side. He looked over to Laureen, a bit surprised when he saw her facial expression.

Not only had he never really seen her look so angry, but her evident feelings were so different than what he was feeling at the moment. His state of being some form of 'high' had died down, leaving him feeling content and even somewhat giddy. There were times back at the Slender Household that a few of them would come home from a kill and hang out while still in that happy mindset, which made for good times and was even the base of a few friendships.

He had people there who could relate to having that feeling, and would intentionally try to lighten up around anyone who had it out of respect. They all knew how it felt to have someone interrupt this state of mind. It was a total buzz-kill, and a good way to get someone instantly pissed off or depressed. Laureen obviously wasn't aware of this custom, nor would she want to be a part of it when she was still... having these withdrawal symptoms.

He began to feel less and less content, instead trying to focus on prying out the metal pieces on the crate in front of him with the nail jack in his hands. He hadn't thought of what he'd do if she said anything. "Did you laugh like hat when you killed the pilot?" Her voice was dimmed and her tone was dark, embodying all the emotions Jeff didn't want anywhere near him right now. He felt himself being ground back forcefully to reality, his peace leaving him behind with only his other emotions to keep him steady.

It made him want to sigh, be it in discontentment or sadness he had no idea. He looked back to Laureen, the only smile on his face being the permanent one. Her side was facing him, so he could see that her eyes intentionally avoided his own as hey stared down at the nail currently being pried out of the crate with her crowbar. Her movements where slower now. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given a s**t if another person was acting hatefully towards him due to one of his kills. But this time was different.

This time, the person reacting to his actions was someone he was ultimately trying to help by escorting her to the perfect opportunity that would cure her mind of everything wrong and misjudged. Liked it or not, he would never get this favor over with if he couldn't sustain some type of common ground between himself and Laureen. Right now, that 'common ground' would have to be warped to fit her ideals.

He knew how she would react to him killing Mathis, this was no surprise, but he didn't really think through what he'd do afterwards. There was no way things would go smoothly with this air between them. He considered just saying 'f**k it' and forcing Laureen into the entire rest of the trip, but immediately second-guessed himself. No, that would go terribly. Not to mention Malachi would kill him if he brought Laureen back after doing that. Same goes for if he didn't bring her back at all.

'The only way this won't be f**ked is if she stops being so bitter about the pilot.' He thought. So, what was the the only situation in which morally correct people were alright with murder? If it was justified. "...Look, Laureen, you don't need to be so-" He started, but was cut off. "Bulls**t! Don't tell me I shouldn't be worked up over this! You just killed a man!" Laureen yelled, turning to look at him with her crowbar still in her hand. Her eyes reflected pure rage.

"So? He wasn't as good as you think he was." He eased his way into his lie, and the illusion began to come together. Laureen snarled at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" She yelled louder this time, gripping her crowbar tighter. "He really doesn't deserve to have you mourn over him. I found out a lot about that guy." Jeff spoke calmly, watching as Laureen's expression fell into one of skepticism and distrust. "Like what? Why wouldn't he deserve my mourning?" She asked carefully.

"Like I said, he's not as good of a person as you think he was. I mean, look around. He was already smuggling guns; I bet you more of these boxes have them packed inside. Why do you think that is?"

"He...might not have known what was in the boxes. You're assuming things."

"I'm not. He knew there were guns in there because he packed them in himself. Besides, it's his cargo, Laureen, how wouldn't he know?"

"...What are you suggesting? Maybe these guns are here for some kind of army force. You don't know that they were for anything else."

"He sold them."

"...What?"

"He sold them to scum on the streets. Gangs, thugs, anyone who would take them. Even the company we're heading over to shut down."

"How would you know that?"

"He told me. Trying to get me to back off, I guess. Told me he'd give them to me free and tell me where his client was hiding if I just let him go. I asked him who else he sold hem to, and...well, it was a long list."

"...He...sold them to criminals?"

"Yep. Sometimes even to regular people."

"...Everyone makes mistakes. Did you ever think that he may have been desperately trying to support a family, or pay off a debt, or give his kids a good life?"

"Of course not. Because I did a bit of research back at Malachi's so I could find out how much of a problem the pilot scheduled for this flight would be."

Laureen's eyes widened a bit. She hadn't even considered that Jeff could have looked up information on the pilot. That information led him so far as to say the pilot didn't even deserve her thoughts. What was it? What did Jeffery know? No matter what it was, no one deserved to be killed...right? It wouldn't justify anything Jeff had done. "Fine. What did you find, then?" Her tone seemed challenging, though less so than she wanted it to be.

Jeff stayed silent for a moment, fighting the urge to grin as he thought of something the pilot could do to horrify her. Then the perfect thought came to him. "Well, you know that family you say he was trying to support? Make that five that he never sees." He said, which was only the beginning. Laureen stayed quiet, though her eyes remained slightly widened. "Would've been six, but apparently one of them got dragged into some of his business along with him one night. He used her as a shield." Jeff continued.

Laureen's eyes widened my more and filled with disgust and sympathy. "And that debt he might have needed to pay off? Never had one. But brought a bunch of others into debt by selling 'em things like guns and drugs. The ones that couldn't pay it off he sent a few business partners after." Jeff continued even more, and Laureen's face going into a shocked, blank look only motivated him.

"The kids he wanted to give a good life to?" Laureen's eyes widened at Jeff's words, as if her gaze would somehow seal his mouth shut, but she stayed silent. "He killed one. Got home one night and beat the s**t out of 'em and the wives. Every time he took it too far, he ran off. Hospitalized two daughters and beat his son to death." That did it. Laureen's stare was wide and horrified, tearing up a bit as well. She held her crowbar loosely by her side, looking as if all of her rage had depleted from her.

"Alla' that was on police records and court documents. One of his business guys busted him out jail not long after that. They caught the guy, and the pilot let him rot. Never got what he deserved until now." Jeff watched Laureen's gaze fall to the floor, eyes full of horror and realization, expression showing something that looked like shock and confusion. Jeff grinned a little, as if trying to lighten the mood.

"Not everyone deserves your sympathy, Laureen." He said, though he wasn't sure if she had actually heard him or not. He picked up the nail jack that he had set down on the crate, beginning to go back to working on prying out the little metal pieces. "That's just-" He paused as he pried a nail from the wood, "-the way things are." Once he was finished with three more nails, he could open the crate. Inside was more guns and contraband, which Laureen lifted her head slightly to see.

"What'd I tell ya?" Jeff said, reaching in and picking up a particular gun that he couldn't remember the name of. He turned it over as he tried to recall the model name, looking over from the corner of his eye when he heard a crowbar being gently set into the top of a wooden crate. Laureen then turned and slowly walked over to the first seating place she could reach and sat down, burying her face in her knees.

Jeffery stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher how he felt about her actions. He eventually dropped it, turning his attention back to the guns in the crate. He was never even aware of the silent sobbing that took place only a few steps away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!! I AM ALIVE!!!! AND I BRING JEFF BEING A SNEAKY LITTLE F**K!!! XD  
> Good God, this took way too long to finish. Due to certain restrictions, I'm barely able to get to any electronic devises, so updates (unfortunately) will be up later and take longer to complete from now on. I'll try to be as consistent as I can, but I can't promise anything at this point. I do hope this situation won't last too long, because honestly I can't stand being away from my stories.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this belated chapter! Please feel free to leave a comment.  
> Thanks for reading! :-)


	17. Friend of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family comes from everywhere, every home, even if that home proves to be very strange. Perhaps it is because of those strange people inside that such bonds are formed.

Be it any other situation, Elise would have jumped at any little sound. But she didn't. The squeak of a mouse or the chirp of a bird sometimes sounded from outside the tent, along with the small little sounds of the old, damaged metal shelves settling every now and then. She could have sworn she heard more than that. Little sounds that were so perfectly on the edge of small and simple that she couldn't tell whether or not she was imagining them. 

Perhaps the clown was standing just outside the tent or behind the red curtains, watching her somehow. The part of her that would have been shaking and paranoid was exhausted. She sat in the cage with a blank expression, sweater pulled over her to protect her from the cold air (an action she had achieved at an excruciatingly slow pace last night). The air was warmer now, morning sun heating the space dimly, yet seemingly storing the coolness of the room into the bars of the cage. Elise didn't much care, leaning against the bars with a vague discomfort. 

Of course she hadn't gotten any sleep, she was far too tired to get to sleep. And far too aware. Aware of every little sound, every little dust particle that fell from the shelves and the ceiling of the cage. Aware of the dusty smell, the dim sweet smell of the candy on the shelves, the metallic smell of.....well, at least she didn't have to see what was in that other room. The room right beside her. The room where a clown may be lying in wait for the right moment. Why didn't that scare her anymore? 

She wasn't even sure if she'd be scared if he came busting into that section of the tent, with his murderous grin and the eyes of a madman. Right now, thinking of him only gave her this strange feeling of anxiousness. As if she was simply waiting for something, anything, to happen. She found herself contemplating at some point in the night if she had any chance of overpowering her captor. She reached the conclusion that no matter how much jiujitsu she could possibly preform correctly, the clown would always be able to get the upper hand. 

He wasn't human, he couldn't be. His teeth were so abnormally sharp, nose long and pointed, body long and inhuman. His arms elongated, for Christ's sake. But Elise had spent enough time wallowing in her realization that such creatures exist. She had apparently spent enough time wallowing in anything at all. She felt nothing. Not fear, not sadness, not desperation. Nothing. Blankness. She had never felt this way before, and while it confused her, she couldn't bring herself to care about it.

She wondered how long it would be until the clown came back to kill her. She wondered how painful it would be to be nailed to a wooden wall, like the ones lining he room she resided in. Or perhaps he nailed them to the wall afterwards. She wondered if she'd be alive when he removed her organs and stuffed her with that candy in colorful, shiny wrappers. She stared at the wrappers through the glass jars on the shelves, trying to come up with a situation that was worse than this. People in movies always said that there was 'worse ways to die' when meeting their demise. 

Was there a worse way to die than this? Every terrible death she could think of was either less painful or met her fate on the same terms. It was then that her eyes began to water once more, despite how many tears she had already shed. She felt a flickering sadness, and immediately wondered if it was better to simply feel nothing. She didn't get much time to contemplate it, as sounds coming from outside the tent interrupted her thoughts. These were different sounds than before, louder yet more distant. 

Something 'clank'ed, like the ring of metal on metal, and the sound repeated. It made a striking sense of anxiety run through Elise, as if the alerting sound had rudely woken her mind. Her eyes widened a bit as the sound continued to repeat, and she hesitated for a long moment before moving for the first time in hours. She turned her head towards the direction of the sound. She obviously couldn't see anything through the shelves and wooden walls, though the sun dripped through the fabric ceiling like rain through paper. 

Another clank, then another, and another. Before it stopped, and an irritated groan voiced itself softly. It sounded like more of a growl, tone deep and wavering like a rasp. It was recognizable. The thud of something that sounded decently heavy dropping to the floor was heard, coupled with another clank on top of it. It sounded like two pieces of metal falling on top of each other. After that was nothing. The silence now seemed far, far too empty now. After a moment, the silence bled into soft footsteps, which grew slightly louder before being muffled again. 

The quietness lasted for all of three seconds before clattering was heard, followed by a loud 'crash' that nearly made Elise jump. It was the loudest sound she had heard in nearly ten hours. After that was lots of shuffling, before the sound stopped. And this time, seemed to stop for good. She didn't realize that her heart was racing until she heard nothing else. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, eyes finally focusing in the direction they were aimed. The shelves she faced now had mostly different assortments of candies of them, but on a few random sections were rolls of white fabric.

'Bandages.' she realized. The bandages only reminded her of the scratches on her hands, which had stopped bleeding some time ago. They didn't hurt anymore, either, unless she payed close attention to way her skin had been split. Her cuts...the cuts the clown had made. The same clown that told her to 'get some rest'. Get some rest. Why? Why would he ever tell her to 'get some rest'? Why didn't he kill her when first dragging her into the tent? Why was it important for her to get some rest? 

A new thought crawled into her mind. Would he do anything when he figured out that she hadn't gotten any rest? Her sleep was bound to leave her, right? He couldn't have possibly been serious. He was mocking her. He must have been. No one would be serious about that. 'But he's not exactly someone, is he?' A voice in the back of her mind shook her. That's right, that clown wasn't a 'someone'. He wasn't human. Maybe he had been serious about her getting some sleep. It sounded ridiculous, but maybe it wasn't  so ridiculous in his mind. 

His twisted, warped, sadistic mind. His mind, which replied to such horrifying images with amusement. With laughter. He was a psychopath. Or maybe he was simply...not human. Maybe that's why he was like this. Not that Elise much cared to go searching for reasons behind his insanity. She realized suddenly that she was now looking at the wooden chair in the corner of the room. When had she turned her head forwards? The chair faced her with creepy accuracy, as if positioned specifically to peer into the cage. 

She stared back at it, studying the light brown wooden structure with such intensity one would think someone was holding her gaze. But it was the emptiness of the chair that kept her staring, not the idea that someone should be in it. The lone chair had no dust on it, as some other things did. It looked as though it was used more often than anything else, save for some particular rows of jarred candies. Elise's mind slowly began imagining the clown sitting in that chair, staring back at her with a toothy grin and crazed eyes. 

It made her shiver, and her eyes gravitated towards the red curtains that separated the room she occupied from the rest of the tent. Maybe he would come walking in at any moment, ice cold eyes staring down at her insanely as his arms elongated to unlock the cage from where he stood. Any minute could be her last. Any word could bring the clown's presence into the room. So she did nothing, a part of her fearing that the smallest noise would make that inhumane, monochrome beast suddenly appear.

But Jack wasn't anywhere near Elise at the moment. In fact, he wanted to be as far from that tent as he could right now. He had been beside it for a moment, digging through a storage tent to find a particular electronic that had never worked as long as he'd seen it. But he needed something to occupy his guest, anything at all to keep his mind away from asking any questions about Jack himself. While he was exceptionally good at hiding things, most of his friends were curious about what he was doing when away from the household for so long, and he always told them. 

He didn't want to accidentally slip up this time. They were mostly curious because there was nothing else to talk about, which made any new information all the more valuable. Jack's teleportation left him at the far end of the carnival, where the only working electrical power was contained in the control box for a child's ride. The electricity was never used for the ride, however. Only for access. "I found it." Jack said, approaching the regular meeting spot for the second time that day.

The elf being addressed turned around, floating in the air at Laughing Jack's eye level. His blonde hair only moved with him in this form, when he didn't have his wooden corpse to posses. This was the only time the elf could ever be taller than Jack, as well. It didn't happen often at the Slender Household, due to some paranoia on BEN's part. His actual spirit was the only thing that could pass through electrical wires and codes, but it was also fragile and more vulnerable. Well, on its own at least.

His spirit was a more accurate representation of his death as well, which he said was an advantage to scaring humans. His hair drooped slightly as if damp, his clothes where slightly darker and he floated in the air rather than flying, as if he were in water. His eyes were pitch black, blood escaping them and trailing down his face. The blood still looked wet, though it was completely dry. Technically, it didn't even exist, so why would it be wet? If Jack was going by BEN's reasoning, that is. The elf grinned, black husks of eyes directed to the clown. 

"Cool, let's see." He replied. BEN's voice sounded like that of a regular teenage voice, which had somewhat aggravated Jack at first. The others usually had some sort of difference in their voice, something that separated them from simply being teenage such as Jeff's slight rasp or the other Jack's monotone contentment. But there was nothing different about BEN's voice that could set him apart from other teens, other than perhaps the cockiness he had gained over time. Jack held out an old Gameboy, clad in a faded white color with a slightly cracked screen. 

BEN took it, turning it over in his hands. It was only when the elf held something that one truly realized how much of a ghost he was. The object could be seen through his hands, just enough to trick someone into thinking they were seeing things. Of course, the proxies knew better. After a few moments, BEN stopped examining the Gameboy. "Yeah, told you it was probably because it didn't have the back panel on it. The battery contacts are f**ked up." He said, looking back up to the monochrome clown.

Jack blinked. He barely knew where batteries fit into the equation, why did BEN always talk to him like he knew everything? "...Alright? If you can fix it, it's yours. I don't want it." He answered after a moment, shrugging. "Thanks, man. I'm sure I'll be able to nag some Color player with this one." BEN said, setting the Gameboy down on the control panel. 'Color player?' Jack thought, but dismissed it and accepted hat he would never speak 'gamer'.

It was only after BEN got a bit of experience in the field of coding that he gained the ability to implement his own virus into other games, which he was ecstatic about. He wouldn't stop bragging about it for what Jack could've sworn must have been two years. Years? Yes, years, that's what a measurement of ten months was, right? Or was it twelve months? "Where are you leaving it this time?" Jack asked, grinning as BEN smiled like he had just been asked what he wanted for Christmas. BEN implanted certain coding, along with his signature virus, into any games he could find outside of computer games and left them by human's houses until someone picked it up. 

Jack wouldn't pretend to understand the coding at all; it was just a bunch of numbers and letters to him. But it was exciting to BEN, so it wasn't as if he wouldn't tolerate his incomprehensible speaking now and then. "I've got the perfect one this time! Seriously, it's perfect! Overheard that this blonde chick steals a phone from her pops all the time to play games. There's no way she'd pass it up!" Said the elf, excitement in his tone. 

"Another blonde one? Why are you going after those all the time?"

"Don't know man, blondes are hot. The hot ones always have the best reactions."

"What difference does a human's hair make?"

"All the difference! It can change the way their entire face looks!"

"...That does not make any-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up ya Jack-in-the-box." 

Both of them laughed a bit as BEN playfully punched the other proxy, strength barely depleted even if it felt softer without his wooden casting. "But you know that it doesn't!" Jack pursued lightheartedly, still smiling in the after effects of his laughter. "Sure it does, you just don't get it!" BEN replied in a childish tone, a silent challenge in his grin. Jack recognized that look immediately, and followed it with a grin of his own. "Really now? Playing the 'I was human' card again, are you?" He asked with a playful and knowing tone, putting his hands just above his hips and raising a brow. 

His grin perfectly highlighted his razor sharp teeth, unable to keep his expression back in knowledge of their little inside joke. BEN shrugged. "Psh. Maybe." He said, crossing his arms and putting on his signature cocky smirk. Jack returned it. "Well you know you will never be able to sense things like I do due to that." He said, rather childishly, mimicking BEN by crossing his arms as well. 

"But you'll never be a gamer."

"You will never care about anything but games."

"You'll never know how awesome games are."

"You will never be as tall as me."

"You'll never fly."

"Neither will you."

BEN paused for a moment, before chuckling a bit. "S**t, you got me." He said, in a friendly tone. Jack smirked triumphantly, watching as BEN shifted into a more comfortable floating position. His clothes raised slightly alongside him, as if they also possessed their own ability to float. Even his hat had its own slight raise to it. "I know." Jack said in a cocky tone, teasing the other proxy. BEN smirked again, floating a little higher. "But..." He said, hovering over the clown, "...you'll never beat my coding skills.

Jack thought for a moment. "Well....you will never teleport like me." He replied after a moment, grinning as BEN started floating away. He followed him, as he always did, to walk around the carnival. He just hoped BEN wouldn't make any detours. "Ah-ah-ah, but you'll never do that in a scary way." The elf said. "What do you mean?" Jack laughed, looking up slightly to BEN. "Come on, teleporting in a 'poof' of smoke like a magician isn't scary, dude. It's ridiculous." BEN said, in a slightly teasing tone.

Jack laughed again, putting his thumbs under the straps of his suspenders. "Well, pardon me for actually existing." He retorted, amused expression on his face as BEN let out a laughing string of 'oh's. "Alright, alright then. But you're just a kid's toy." BEN said in a competitive tone, smirking in his signature cocky way again. "...Technically, so are you." Jack replied, trying to keep his smile down as he awaited the elf's reaction. BEN was quiet for a moment, before his tone raised a bit. "That's not the same thing!" He said, causing Jack to burst out laughing.

"Come on, it's not the same thing! Zelda's an all-player game!" BEN's tone lowered back to his normal volume, "Besides, I'm not actually the game character, so that doesn't work. One point for me." Jack let out a scoffing laugh, but conceded. They were quiet for a few moments, walking around an old carousel that no longer operated correctly. There was a path that Jack knew led past the main circus tent coming up ahead, and tried his best to ignore it. Sometimes, when BEN wasn't in a particular mood to stay very long, they would go down that path in order to reach the front gates faster.

A part of him felt vaguely worried that BEN would take that path and hear something, anything, that might make him investigate the tent. Not that Elise had made any noticeable sounds from what he heard...but she might try to call for help since she would undoubtedly hear their conversation.  Maybe he was a little more worried than he thought he was. He ignored that realization, refusing to look at the path and instead looking back to BEN. He had been friends with the elf for even longer than he had been with his other closest friend, since BEN arrived at the Slender Household two years before Jeff had.

There was a deeply rooted bond between them all, like that of brothers living in the same home. Memories of taking video games too seriously and roughhousing together were some of the clown's finest things to recall, though be quickly realized that things wouldn't be exactly the same due to BEN and Jeff's...slip up. That reminded him of exactly what Jeff was probably doing right now. He was in a similar situation to his 'brother' wasn't he? After all, he didn't want to simply get rid of Elise so wastefully when she had proved to at least be amusing, and decent company.

He got bored of things so easily nowadays, so he didn't want to pass up an opportunity like this. Actually, now that it was on his mind, he remembered Jeff saying something similar to that thought at some point. He wondered if BEN had been wondering about his fellow proxy at all. Logic would assume not, since Jeff often left for a week or two without coming home. It wasn't as thought it was out of character for him. Still, it might be best to simply not mention him due to a quiet flicker of fear that the clown might accidentally let unwanted words slip from his mouth.

"So, its kinda lonely at the house without'cha. Why are you always shutting yourself up in the carnival?" BEN finally spoke again, after pulling his eyes from the trashed tracks of a roller coaster section. It was an old one that ran around the back of the carnival, and looked like it could have been rather fun in its early days. Now there were whole sections of track falling off or missing, missing bolts, crumbling support rails, and nonfunctional ride seats. "My carnival." Jack corrected, "And it is not even a small space. You can't shut yourself up in a place that isn't small." 

"Sure ya can. Its called being a spacious hermit."

"...Pff, hehehehe."

"What? What's there ta' laugh at?"

"Hehe, I always think of a crab when you say 'hermit'."

"...Really?" BEN looked unamused. It just made Jack laugh even more. The elf rolled his eyes even as a small smile made its way onto his face. "What's funny about a crab, anyways?" He asked. 

"Heheh, I don't know, maybe their eyes?"

"Their eyes?"

"Yeah, they have funny little beady eyes."

"Heh, I guess they do."

"Or maybe their pinchers?" Jack made a crab claw-like shape with his hands and pretended to snap them towards BEN. It made the elf laugh a little.

"Could be the weird shell shape."

"Or the way they get tossed around by the water."

"Haha! Maybe that's it. That's always pretty funny to watch."

"Oh! I know what it is."

"What's it?"

"The way they walk. They walk sideways on those tiny legs, remember?"

"Heh, yeah. They look pretty f**king stupid, don't they?"

"Hehe. Imagine a crab walking sideways across the ground, snapping at you."

Both of them were quiet for a moment, before they began to laugh at the imagery Jack was describing. BEN even fell backwards a bit in his floating place, saving himself by flipping upright again. Jack began to slow down as they got closer to the front gate, feeling relieved and proud that there had been no problems or complications. He didn't know why he had been so worried; of course BEN would want to spend a bit more time talking after not seeing each other for a bit of time, and therefore would not take the short path.

"Hey, what's that?" BEN's voice came from behind him, and Jack realized BEN had stayed in his place, floating several steps away. He was looking down the path. Jack stayed silent, a bit puzzled as to why the elf would be interested in anything on the ground of his carnival. There were things scattered everywhere, but BEN never really mentioned them. His throat seemed to tighten up just from the knowing exactly which path BEN was staring down, and followed the elf's gaze to a certain spot on the ground.

It wasn't hard to see what he was looking at; it was the only bright thing down that path that didn't have its color shrouded by dust. Elise's bright blue school bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I've got a new chapter up sooner than I thought I would! :3  
> I've had some good opportunities to write this week, so thank Father Time. XD  
> This chapter is a bit more docile, but I hope you enjoy it none the less and find the ending a little suspenseful. I also hope you like my take on BEN Drowned, since this is my first time writing him into the story.  
> Thank you for reading. :-)


	18. Brother of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe BEN is a bit too nosy. That amount of curiosity can lead to bad things happening. But don't have too much sympathy for him; he is a murderer.

There was a lingering silence between BEN and Laughing Jack. Nothing spoke, nothing moved, the wind didn't even blow. Jack was fairly sure all the oxygen had left the air as well. The elf finally turned and looked at Jack, breaking he silence. "Did'cha snatch a kid from a school or something?" He asked, and the sound made all the air come flooding back into Jack's lungs. "Yeah- well I- sort of..." And then it began to leave him again, as if he had used up all his breath just saying those words. His throat tightened again, but he met BEN's gaze without wavering. 

The elf's void-filled eyes stared back at him for a few seconds, before turning attention back to the bright blue bag. He let out a small 'huh' under his nonexistent breath, before floating down the path. Jack felt frozen in place for a moment, before wordlessly following BEN at a slightly slower pace. It wasn't too unusual for BEN to snoop, as he was a little notorious for it in the Slender Household. So it would look strange if Jack told him to back off, especially so if he was only curious about a victim's bag. Or at least, what he believed to be a victim's bag. 

The elf was already unzipping he bag as Jack stepped beside him. The clown had no idea of what was inside, as he had never bothered to check, and with that uncertainty came a small amount of anxiousness. What if something inside would reveal that the bag belonged to a teenager? Still, he said nothing. It wasn't likely anyway. Was it? BEN pulled a few binders from the bag and set them aside, not paying them much attention. Jack knew that the amount of binders in that bag was a bit unusual for a child...but he stood quietly and hoped BEN wouldn't notice. 

This was so much bigger than simply covering the shame of keeping a teenager alive, it was covering the crime of keeping a teenager alive. Letting humans live after they'd seen a proxy's face was forbidden in the Slender Household, and the man in charge was very serious about keeping his rules in place. Maybe Jack could get away with a punishment and a few scars, but depending on how long he and been interacting with her and letting her leave the carnival or even been keeping her alive in that cage, Jack's penalty could very well be death. 

The weight of this knowledge seemed to sink him into a place that he rarely ever had to deal with. It was a slightly unfamiliar place, and had a certain unease to it that mixed with the essence of a dark feeling. After a moment, BEN sighed. "D**n it. Guess they weren't much of'a gamer, huh? There's like nothing in here." He said, digging through the bag a moment more. Jack felt himself relax a bit, surprising himself. When did he tense up? BEN floated upwards a bit with the bag in his hand, voicing a pleased 'hey' as he reached something he deemed worth while. 

He pulled from the bag two packs of colored pencils. One seemed a bit more expensive than the other, made of thin metal displaying a woman drawn with the pencils it contained inside. Was Elise an artist of some sort? Well, it didn't matter anyways. "Sally'll prob'ly like these." BEN said with a knowing tone. Sally was the youngest proxy to ever survive at the Slender Household, and had remained in that position for many years. She acted similar to that of a normal little girl, drawing and playing and eating sweets. However, she was definitely not normal. As was the case for most proxies. 

"...Yeah. I'll come by and bring them to her. Unless you feel like floating the entire way there." Jack replied, though his tone sounded dimmer than he had intended. BEN shivered a little at the suggestion Jack presented, immediately holding the pencils out to the clown. "Yeah, no. 'M never doing that s**t again." He said. It took a moment, but those words brought a chuckle from Jack as he took the pencils. BEN made a small grin, before he began floating backwards in the direction of the gate. "'S not funny, that s**t sucked!" He said in a tone that was only half serious. 

"It's no secret. You were complaining about it that entire-" Jack's words instantly caught in his throat as a metal sound came from beneath his foot. He hadn't realized he stepped on the bag until he lifted his foot from it, stepping to the side instead. That sound was like the jangling of keys, like he unmistakable crunch of metal on metal that cannot be broken with a simple step. A child had no reason to be keeping keys in their bag, did they? "...entire week." Jack finished, walking past the bag and hoping BEN would ignore what just happened. 

BEN didn't respond, head now tilted down towards the bag. "...Huh. Forgot to check the front pocket." He said, floating back to the bright blue bag. To Elise's bag. To the bag most likely containing keys. To the bag that might lead to questioning and investigation. He wasn't ready to make up answers or act out a lie. He hadn't thought it through. He heard BEN unzip the front pocket of the bag, and he turned immediately at the sound. A rushed 'wait' nearly left his mouth, but he held any words back even as he heard the jangle of keys again. 

The elf pulled a green lanyard from the bag, which surely enough had keys attached to it by a key chain. Three keys, each looking as though they fit into different locks despite them all being a gold-bronze color. "...What the hell kind of kid would be carrying keys around?" BEN mumbled, rummaging through the rest of the small pocket. The small clanking of a few forgotten pens rang at the bottom of the pocket, but no sound made as great of an impact as one small motion did. One small motion, the turn of a wrist, that revealed a wallet being pulled from the bottom of the bag. 

Jack didn't realize his eyes had fully widened until he heard the snap of the wallet opening, eyes immediately falling back on the elf. BEN simply seemed confused, perhaps a little skeptical, pulling the wallet wide open and looking inside. There was a twenty dollar bill, a few quarters, a mint, a paper clip, and an ID. A school ID, with Elise's image printed on the front alongside some numbers. 'Elise Farelie, Student ID number: 2638952730, Lakenson High School' it read, clear as day. 

There was a short silence, a stunned silence, without any sort of acknowledgement. Until BEN finally looked back up at him, dark  eyes bearing a look that Jack wasn't familiar with. "...Did you...ya killed a teenager?" He questioned, seemingly in complete disbelief, tone quiet. Jack blinked, different scenarios playing through in his mind. All of the different things he could say, some sort of plan to get him out of this situation, a believable lie. And even with many lies formulated for him, he found himself not being able to tell BEN any of them. 

"...Um....yes...I did..." He answered, wishing desperately that he could simply choke down whatever barrier existed that prevented him from telling one of the better lies he thought up. But it was impossible when looking BEN in the eyes. The elf stared for another few moments, before his mouth turned upwards in a sort of grin. "For reals? Can I see 'er?" He asked. It was a perfectly normal thing to request; BEN had asked to see some of the children pinned up in the master tent in the past. 

This was mainly out of curiosity and occasionally Jack's boasting, and BEN clearly wanted to see just how mangled the teenager was after being killed. It was so rare for Jack to kill a teen, after all. Whenever it happened, it was usually out of pure aggravation and rage, which sometimes made for very gruesome results. Such results were entertaining. "Well...I, um..." Jack tried to think of a new lie now; a lie that could serve as a valid excuse for BEN not being able to see the 'corpse' that must be hanging to the wooden wall of the main tent. But he hesitated a bit too long. 

"Haha, didn't go to town on this one? Or 'r you embarrassed? Did'ya do something to 'er?" The elf asked. Jack frowned. "No, I just-" his sentence was cut off by another short series of chuckles, and BEN's abrupt change of paths to the main tent. Jack felt his eyes widen a bit as he watched BEN pick up speed, floating forward in the direction of the tent. He barely got out a stutter of disagreement before BEN was too far to reach even if he had elongated his arms. His whole being seemed to grow numb, perhaps even mixed with a small sensation of cold, and he made no further efforts to call out to the elf. 

Instead, he began walking at a fast pace over to the main tent. He felt himself take a long breath and exhale in something close to a sigh, though it was absent of the effort it took to actually sigh. His hands found their way to his suspenders, fingers wrapping around the material as he watched his feet move. He knew BEN would tell Slenderman of Jack's wrongdoing when he found Elise still alive. He knew he couldn't trust the elf to keep a secret like this. He also knew BEN was more...fragile in this form. He knew he could hurt him very badly. 

He knew this, and even knew that he could probably kill the elf if he really fought for it. But he didn't want to fight him. And he knew Slenderman would kill him if he ever killed BEN. Not if he hurt him, but he didn't want to do that either. Even so, he found himself unable to think of any excuses for having Elise at the carnival. Unable to give BEN an excuse as he floated into the tent. Unable to think of another option. He followed the elf in, nearly ten steps behind him, and closed the wooden door. 

The lights were on, and BEN was already studying the walls in search of the teenager Jack had 'murdered'. Jack could tell that his own expression was a strange one; a slightly saddened frown, lowered head, eyes that barely looked at the elf. His hands tightened around the material of his suspenders, watching as BEN's features began to express confusion. "So, uh...where 's she?" The elf asked, turning back to Jack. The clown didn't trust his mouth not to fumble over whatever lie it could tell, and stayed in a dark and nervous silence. 

BEN let the silence continue until he began to feel awkward as well, though it was much more light-hearted than what Jack was feeling. "Oookayyy..." The elf said, in a loose effort to break the silence, looking around the walls again until his eyes fell on the red curtain. He pointed his thumb at it, looking back to the clown. "She in there?" He asked, but once again got no response. Jack was trying to formulate a sentence this time, though. Trying to think of something, anything to say. "Well..." He started, to show that he was trying to answer, though it came out much softer than he had intended. 

"She is, isn't she? I've seen you store a body or two in there before." BEN said as he floated towards the curtain, "So why'd you store it? Nothing left to put on the wall?" And then silence. Jack felt himself nearly sigh again, though it was a weighted sigh this time. The weight stemmed from his shoulders and stomach, building in his chest. He walked forward, a 'no, wait!' still sitting at the bottom of his throat, never spoken as it was intended to be. He pulled the curtain back again, looking into the room. BEN was staring wide-eyed at the cage on the ground, meeting the human eyes of Elise. 

She was also wide-eyed, in a tense stance with both hands grabbing onto bars of the cage as if she had been severely startled. Her breathing had noticeably quickened, jacket halfway over her legs and mostly draped over the floor of the cage. She looked to be on the verge of screaming. "....." BEN said nothing, continuing to stare as though Jack had never even entered the room. ".....Ben..." The clown said as he stepped fully into the room, the sound producing a yelp from Elise and causing her to look his way. "What's this?" BEN asked, still staring at Elise, floating a bit lower in the air now. 

"....It is not-" Jack started, but was cut off immediately. "What is this? Why's she here?" BEN reiterated, this time meeting the clown's eyes. Jack could feel his eyes narrow, and his voice grow colder. "Ben, this isn't your business." He said. "Like hell it isn't!" The elf snapped, causing the girl in the cage to flinch. 

"It isn't. This is my carnival and my decision-"

"It's against the f***ing rules, Jack! Your decision is gonna get you locked inside for years! Maybe killed!"

"It doesn't have to! Don't tell him."

"Yeah?! How the f**k do you expect me not to, man?! No way in hell am I getting killed 'cause of this! 'Cause of you!"

"He won't know if you don't tell him, Ben."

"Bulls**t! He'll know! He always finds that crap out; you know that!"

"What's the problem with this anyway?! I was planning to kill her, I'm just keeping her around for a little while because she's funny!"

"Wha- 'she's funny'? That's not a f***ing reason to let her live!"

"Why not?! The others do it all the time, why can't we?!"

"The oth- you mean the others from Rake's place? He's got a whole different group up there, with their own s**t goin' on! His house, his rules; but we live in the f***ing Slender Household, Jack!"

"I know that! Why can't you just be on my side?"

"'Be on your side'?! I can't have your back on this one, man! Slender'll kill me!"

"He won't find out! He almost never comes to the carnival; by the time he does, she'll be long gone."

"He will find out! He always finds out! Why can't you get that through your d**m skull?!"

"If it is so bad, why not just let me get caught?! Why tell him?!"

"Because now I know about it! I'm not good at lying, man! When he asks everyone if they knew, he's gonna see right through me!"

"He won't ever know!"

"YES HE WILL, JACK!"

BEN's loud voice was enough to make Jack hesitate, and enough to make Elise scream. Both of them looked over to the human, before BEN let out a sigh, putting a hand up to his face. Jack looked back at him, feeling a mixture of anger, injustice, and something that felt a bit like sadness. There was a moment of quietness, the only sound being Elise's faint heavy breathing.

"...Ben, just-"

"Why'd you have 'ta do this, man?"

"...If you just don't tell him..."

"...God dammit, L.J..."

"...I'll kill her soon, Ben, everything will be fine! It's only for a few days."

"....Sorry, man. I just can't side with you this time."

The elf began to float past Jack, to the exit of the room, at a moderately fast pace. Jack immediately put a hand up, grabbing his shoulder and holding him there. There was a pause, a knowing pause, before BEN spoke. "Let me go." He said, without emotion. "Don't tell him, BEN." Jack replied simply, tone bearing a dark tint made a little darker by his slight rasp. "...I said let me go, Jack." The elf repeated. Jack said nothing, tightening the hand on BEN's shoulder in a last attempt to shake him from his mindset.

"I said...let me f***ing go!" The elf turned and punched Jack's stomach, this punch having his full force behind it. Jack groaned in pain and clutched his stomach with his other hand, BEN slipping away as the clown's grip on his shoulder loosened. He was out of the red curtains so fast that Jack barely saw him. The clown took a deep breath, ignored the dull pain in his stomach along with Elise's wide eyes on him, and ran after the elf. He elongated his arm and managed to grab BEN before he exited the tent, swinging him into the ground on the other side of the room. 

A loud grunt of pain came from the elf, along with a slight wheeze. Jack was in front of him instantly, grabbing at him through the fading cloud of black dust. BEN was floating upwards again, dodging Jack's hands and flying over him. The clown regained his vision as the dust continued to clear, grabbing BEN's leg as he tried to float away. BEN yelped a bit as he was thrown to the ground again, back connecting with the cold concrete. 

"This can be easily avoided, Ben." Jack reminded, hoping the elf would reconsider trying so hard to tell Slenderman about his crime. The elf lifted his head and glared at the clown with his void-like eyes, turning to the side and kicking Jack's kneecap with all the force he could render. Jack let go of BEN's leg, yelling as his leg gave out from the sudden attack. BEN was up in an instant, floating upwards a bit and kicking the clown's face in one swift motion. Jack gasped, head forced backwards at the action, hands flying up to his pointed nose. 

BEN flew past him, towards the entrance of the tent, only to be interrupted  once again. A puff of black smoke appeared before him, and he yelled as the dust got in his eyes. Jack reached out and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him forward and head-butting him in the throat. BEN made a pained chocking noise, gasping a bit despite not needing oxygen and backing up while grabbing his throat. The dust had nearly completely cleared by now, though the particles in BEN's eyes barely changed. He squinted as he opened them, enough to see Jack lunging towards him again. 

The elf brought both feet up, kicking the other proxy in the face and pushing himself away from the clown. Floating in the air, he tried to blink the dust out of his eyes as he listened to Jack's pained yelp and small grunts as the proxy held his long nose. Jack could feel his nose cracking back into place, growling loudly as he bent it painfully. The tip of his nose was still scrunched up, but he had no time to fix that. His ice-cold eyes glared daggers at the elf, who had managed to blink the dust out of his eyes (though it still laced the front of his green clothing). 

He yelled angrily and lunged for the elf again, this time able to dig his claws into BEN's shoulder to keep him in place as he formed his other hand into a fist. BEN's shout of pain at the clown's nails was cut off by a sharp and quick blow to the side of his face, which was enough to send him veering off to the left with Jack's fingernails scraping over and through his shoulder painfully. He fell to the ground again, hand flashing up to hold his shoulder as he sat up, looking at Jack. Both of them simply stared for a moment, which gave Jack enough time to speak.

"Say you won't tell him, Ben." He sounded angry, and a bit out of breath. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, nails on one hand coated with blood that was so dark it looked weeks old. He stared at his blood on the clown's claws for a moment, before looking back up to Jack's eyes. He wouldn't kill BEN. He couldn't, right? They had been friends for so long, had counted on each other and lived with one another. They had laughed together, joked together, agreed together, made decisions together, and even fought together occasionally. He would never really kill him.

"Jack...I'm sorry, man. No matter what you do...or say...I have to tell him. I'm gonna tell him." He said, calmly with a determined tone. Jack's angry expression became enraged. His razor-sharp teeth clenched together tightly, his eyes darkened, and his stance turned tense and attacked. He took a few quick steps forward, grunting as his injured knee shook and caused his leg to be unsteady. BEN's eyes widened and he found himself frozen to the spot, unable to move. He had never seen Jack this angry. 

Laughing Jack, who was almost always grinning and enjoying whatever he was doing. Laughing Jack, who hated everything boring or dull and loved everything entertaining or lively. Laughing Jack, who was his best friend in Slender's Household. It seemed impossible for that Jack to be the one lifting him roughly from the ground, with every intent to hurt and to destroy. It seemed impossible for Laughing Jack to be throwing him across the tent at such neck-breaking speed, hurling him into the room with the red curtain. 

The human in the cage screamed as BEN slammed into one of the metal shelves, all of his internal organs screaming with pain, spine searing angrily. He felt himself collapse slowly to the ground, sliding down the metal shelves painfully until me met the floor. He didn't feel his eyes closing, instead only the sensation of the world slipping away into darkness. Jack heard the crash of BEN's body hitting the shelves and Elise's scream, sounds piercing through his enraged state. His anger evaporated, expression falling into one of realization. 

He hesitated, as if absorbing everything that just happened, before letting out a slightly shaky breath. In an instant, he was in the room through the red curtains, teleporting there due to his injury. He saw BEN lying against a shelf, and realized just how much more transparent he had gotten over the course of their fight. Jack could see all the objects behind him perfectly, as if BEN was just an imitation or illusion. He stood there for a moment, listening to what sounded like Elise sobbing as he stared with wide eyes down at the proxy. At his friend. Was he dead? 

Jack dropped to his knees, groaning as his injured one made contact with the ground. He put a hand on BEN's uninjured shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Ben? Ben?!" He tried calling him, tried shaking him a bit more as well, but got no response. He couldn't check for a heartbeat, as BEN didn't have one of those anyway. BEN barely ever breathed either, and never did when asleep. So how could Jack determine whether or not he was dead? "Ben?! Hey, are you alright?! S**t, I didn't mean..." 

The hope drained from his voice as BEN only got more transparent, to the point of only being a faint image. His body was limp, terribly injured, and faded so heavily that he could have been mistaken for a magic trick. Jack hesitated, but slowly took his hand away, letting his arm hang beside him. "...F**k...God d**m it, no...what the hell just happened...?" He mumbled to himself, bringing his unbloodied hand up to cover his eyes. There was no sound, not even of Elise's sobbing, just a dead silence over everything and everyone. An empty void, like the eternal darkness of BEN's eyes. 

Nothingness. Until Jack remembered Slenderman telling the Household the rule of killing no proxies. BEN was sitting beside him that day. He became far too aware of his own inhales and exhales, remembering the death penalty for killing one of their own. He wanted to apologize to BEN. He wanted to simply sit there, in that moment, forever. He may not have understood the measurement of time, but he did know that it could never rewind. And that he was running out of it now. BEN was almost always at the house, and Slenderman knew that the elf came to visit Jack if he was at the carnival. 

He'd be caught in no time if he stayed here. Begrudgingly, he took his hand away from his eyes, staring at BEN's heavily faded form for a moment. He then looked over to the cage, where Elise sat. She was shaking, traces of tears on her cheeks even though she wasn't crying at the moment. She was on the other side of the cage than she was earlier, as if she'd moved away from BEN when he came crashing into the shelves. Her eyes were wide, and showed such subtle traces of sadness that only human eyes could show. Their eyes met, and her expression turned into one of unparalleled fear. 

He took a deep breath and a long blink, before standing with a bit of a struggle. He walked over to the cage, slowed due to his knee, and stopped in front of it. Elise feared for her life. What if he decided to take out his rage on her? What if he thought it was her fault that the elf died? The loud sound of the master lock being ripped from the bars nearly made her scream, and Jack bent down to look at her. His arm reached towards her. She hugged her arms and waited for pain to strike her, closing her arms tightly. "Grab my hand. Now." Jack said. 

She opened her eyes, realizing now that his hand was not lunging towards her in an attack. It was outstretched to her. And Jack's voice was not angered, but calm and quiet. It was saddened. She felt a weight of confusion and fear on her mind, but his tone nearly made her forget how terrified she was. She slowly looked at his face, which was lowered just enough for her to see. He had a somewhat blank expression, mouth in a small frown and eyebrows not expressing anything at all. But his eyes where small and sad, glimmering with a subtle regretful light that only his eyes could show. 

And so, she suddenly felt her own hand connecting with his, holding onto it even with the rough bandages wrapped over them scrapping her own healing wounds. His expression didn't change, but he gently curled his fingers over her hand, keeping his nails from cutting her. There was then a brief second where he seemed to hold on to her hand much tighter, and a few traces of black smoke curled around them quickly with a rushed pace. And then they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah! Finally have a new chapter out! This took WAY longer than I meant for it to, so I'm really sorry for the delay! (￣▽￣)  
> Also, there is a quiz under my Quotev account (same username) that is directly tied to this story, and it would help me out if any reader would go and take it. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  
> Thank you so much for waiting for this chapter, and thank you for reading! :-)


	19. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter certainly has a lot going on...

The sound of nails falling to the ground seemed almost rhythmic. A strange tune, with only one sound that barely ever changed. Laureen found herself listening to this rhythm as she stared off at nothing, eyes directed towards the helicopter door. She was loosing herself to her thoughts again. But they were empty thoughts, just purely stating what she already knew rather than contemplating it. Mathis had been a bad person. She and Jeff were in Arcos. They were in Arcos in order to shut down a black-market criminal organization. Jeff had just killed a man. 

She had just cried herself into silence and emptiness. She wanted to go home. The small stinging of her eyes surprised her for the first time. It always stung when they began to change colors, noticeable despite her being used to the unnatural shift. She realized then that the reason it surprised her was fairly simple. She hadn't felt it in a while. Only a slight sting when she was angry earlier, when bright colors usually brought some sort of burn. Had she really been in the same mood for so long? Had her emotions truly not changed enough to influence her eyes in all the time they had been on the helicopter? 

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had been in a similar sad and anxious state the entire time, with no changes strong enough to cause any change in her eye color. So what made it change now? It was due to a sinking feeling that broke through the emptiness. Loneliness. She didn't know what color her eyes turned to when she was lonely. Every new color that ever occurred was voiced by Malachi, not relayed to her by her own findings in a mirror. It only made her miss him more. 

She never knew that she could feel this homesick over a place she hadn't been occupying for most of her life. But when compared to being here, stuck with a twisted murderer and witnessing the world reveal information that she didn't want to know, she could certainly see how it was possible to be homesick. 'Homesick', for as long as she had known the term, always referred to a house. A comfortable house, with a mother and a father or other relatives who loved and appreciated whoever it was that shared that home. The longing for that home had almost never occurred for her in the course of her life. 

There was only one time, one singular time, that such a feeling was strong enough to effect her. And as she remembered that time, she found herself slowly beginning to miss two homes. A memory of herself at the age of six, alone in the house save for a babysitter that clearly simply wanted to be paid. Staring out the window with her telescope, and finding a young star like her mother had told her to do rather than wishing on a falling star. Her words ringing through Laureen's mind: 'why would you wish on something falling?'. 

Back then, those words were comforting, something to think about when 'mommy' was halfway around the world as she wondered if the moon was also visible from where she was. Now, those words held very little value compared to how much they meant to her back then. She remembered being very homesick at that age. When her parents first began leaving for nearly months at a time. Homesick, despite being in a home. She had longed for the home that was comfortable, the one with the mother and the father who loved and appreciated her. 

But that home never returned, and Laureen grew past that stage of loneliness in later years. It faded more and more, from homesickness to a dim loneliness, then a small want, then simply being alone. Alone, without feeling lonely. But that cabin of Malachi's, that cabin had undeniably restored the feeling of being 'home'. And she undeniably wanted to go home. She curled her knees a bit closer to herself, her loneliness only making her more bitter about the situation that was keeping her from the home she longed for. There was a certain humor to it though, she supposed. A cabin in the woods would always attract a killer, right? 

.....That thought did very little to help her current state. She heard the sound of yet another crate opening. How many had Jeff been through by now? "Alright, more food in this one. 'S good, right?" He said softly, picking up some canned food and turning it over to look at the expiration date. When was he going to learn that she didn't care? He had been voicing what was in the crates for nearly ten minutes now. Or perhaps he was just saying it to himself at this point. He didn't even truly know that himself. 

A part of him figured he was talking to the unresponsive Laureen, but...well was he really talking to someone if that person was unresponsive? He picked up the blue bag from the ground beside him, holding it as he put some canned fruit inside. So far, all of the food had been either stored in tupperware or canned, which he figured was reasonable for a shipment of food. Still, most of it looked like something from a hospital cafeteria. There was boxed plastic silverware as well, so he grabbed two or three and added that to the blue bag. 

As it was now, they'd have enough food for a little over a week, possibly two weeks depending on whether or not they ate lunch. Or perhaps depending on how much Laureen ate. He knew Malachi skipped a meal every day, so she probably wasn't used to having lunch. Which was good, as he was fairly certain he could also go without lunch. The rest of the crates thus far had been for contraband; grenades, pistols, and shotguns lined the wooden sides, along with a few other brands of gun. Well, most of the other crates had. 

There was another that had food, one that had fabrics and thread, then a rather peculiar one that contained stuffed toys. There weren't enough to fill the crate, but they all looked brand new and untampered with. Jeff had decided not to mention that particular crate to Laureen. However, he did find himself wondering what Mathis was actually doing with this kind of shipment. He let the thought leave his mind as he set the blue bag back down, picking up the nail jack once again and going to work on another crate. 

He glanced over to Laureen as he did this, which he hadn't done almost the entire time he had been opening crates. She was staring blankly at the helicopter door, knees pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Her long hair fell down her back and slightly in her face, falling over her arms as well. 'She should prob'bly get that cut some time.' Jeff thought, realizing just how long Laureen's hair actually was. It may cause problems later on, getting snagged on something or extending long enough for someone to grab. In fact, her hair was probably the longest he had ever seen. 

The female members of the Slender Household either kept their hair at shoulder-length or had kept it at a normal length, down their back or shoulder blades. Laureen's hair was probably down to her hips. Jeff was personally baffled as to how she managed to live normally with that much hair while also keeping it in a nice condition, and he lamely answered the thought with reasoning that she had a lot of time to herself to keep it brushed and whatever else. Still, had Malachi never thought to simply cut her hair? 

It was obvious that they couldn't go to a salon or anything, but he knew Malachi had scissors at his home. Why not cut it himself? He left the thought with an 'oh, well' as he opened the next crate. He was greeted with uncovered pillows and blankets of different colors. "Oh, nice! Looks like we'll be able to actually get some sleep." He said aloud, reaching into the box and pulling from it a pillow and a green comforter. Laureen actually looked over this time, though barely, wondering what he had meant with that statement. 

The moment she saw the pillow and the big blanket, she returned to staring at what she realized was the helicopter door. She didn't want to think about why the pilot was carrying shipments of food and bedding. It made her feel a bit nauseous. There was a bit of rustling on Jeff's part, which wasn't unusual given how much noise he had already made, before silence fell over both of them. Now, that was more unusual. The silence lasted for all of twenty seconds (Laureen counted) before Jeff put down his nail jack with a hollow 'thunk'. 

He then walked over to the helicopter door, right into Laureen's line of view. Her eyes widened a bit at the sudden new item added to the scenery. Jeff grabbed the handle of the helicopter door, and that was enough to make Laureen speak. "What are you doing?" She asked, with a hollow curiosity. "Getting us a car. You can stay here if you want." Jeff answered, pulling open the door. The outside world introduced a cold and dim morning light. It cast over everything, adding a new visibility compared to the darkness they had last seen. 

The trees and bushes were tall, bearing rich green leaves and pines that looked unmoved. Small weeds and flowers bloomed around the threshold of clearing and forest. It was a pretty sight. "A car?" Laureen questioned, watching as Jeff jumped out onto the dirt ground. "Yeah." Was the simple answer, before the door closed again. It left a cold breeze waving through the helicopter for a moment, before that faded away and the comfortable warmth of the vehicle sat undisturbed once again. Strange, she thought Arcos was known to be hot. Perhaps it was only cool outside at times like this, when it was early and the world had barely woken up. 

She didn't put much thought into the subject. She didn't put much thought into anything. Only the simple longing now, for a change of scenery. The outside world had been a nice sight, and while the air had been cold it had also been fresh. The helicopter was suddenly stuffy, and she put her knees down to sit normally rather than be fit into a curled-up ball. She realized then that she didn't want to move anymore than that. Despite her wanting a change of scenery, she didn't want to put in the necessary effort to acquire that change. 

This was partly due to her currant emotions and hours of being in the helicopter, but the other side to this was her fear. She was afraid. She didn't want to leave just to watch another murder, or steal another vehicle as Jeff was doing now. She didn't want to face the company that was selling off children to...God knows where. Despite what confidence she had in knowing she could find them, she was not so confident in what would happen when she did. What would she even do? She said she would capture them and not kill them, but even she knew the police force here was practically useless for such things. 

What could she possibly do rather than leading the police to them? She couldn't hold them on her own. She knew that. Jeff probably couldn't hold them either. And as she sat there, contemplating what she could possibly do when she actually finds the black market company there, that killer was making his way around the clearing. He was going through the woods, staying so close to the front bushes and trees he had a slight view of the clearing at all times. Before long, he had circled over to the parking lot beside the helipad building. 

The building itself was nothing to look at; it was old, textures faded and glass on the back door yellowed. Though it was clearly occupied, as the lights were on and the cars were parked in the parking lot. He stepped out of the trees, quickly running to the side of the building closest to the parking lot. He hurried as to not be seen by anyone who, by chance, would venture by the back door and look through the glass. He questioned himself right after, though, wondering if any of the employees would really be in a narrow hallway on the ground floor.

He expected the employees to at least question the helicopter as well, and had been prepared to kill them if he had to. Perhaps they had truly just not noticed? There were only seven cars in the parking lot, after all. Perhaps they were all in a place that couldn't see the landing pad. But they would have heard it, wouldn't they? This train of thought only led into more and more questioning, until his curiosity begged him to go back to the door. He looked inside the building through the yellowing glass, seeing the same narrow hallway he had caught a glimpse of when running past the back door. 

But now, he saw that there were green doors lining the walls and a stairwell on the right side. Slowly, he turned the door nob until he heard it click. Unlocked? He continued to open the door, the hinges of it squeaking slightly as he did. Maybe he would just take a look around. He could kill any of them if they became a problem, anyway. He should make sure no one saw them and was now calling some sort of authority. He had a bunch of reasons for going into the building...or rather, a bunch of excuses for his pure curiosity. 

He craned his head in through the doorway, and was immediately met with the smell of something slightly metallic. He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him as he walked down the hall. The white tile of the floor made his footsteps all the more apparent, though he wasn't focusing on the faded white and green color scheme of the room. He then realized that he was smelling something familiar. Something a bit sickly, though it did far from disgusting him. He walked a little faster, following the smell over to the stairwell. 

He stopped in front of it, looking up the flight of stairs that confirmed what he was smelling. Blood dripped from the top four or five steps, smeared over the wall on the second floor. There was a small rustling sound coming from that level, which suggested that someone was still there. He looked over the scene again, wondering who caused it. Crossing off names of proxies in his mind (who wasn't a brutal killer, who killed without this much physical contact, who preferred not to be so messy), he tried to narrow down his options of who he would be running into if he walked up those stairs. 

He dropped his examining almost immediately, though, remembering that running into any of his fellow proxies wouldn't be anywhere near beneficial to him right now. He needed to get out of here before whoever else was in the building found him or Laureen. If they discovered that he was practically escorting a human across countries, he'd definitely be dead. Slowly this time, he began walking away, trying not to make too much noise. He was nearly to the door when he heard fast steps down the stairs, and turned his head on instinct. 

He was just in time to watch a creature emerge from the wall's corner, feet tapping onto the white tile. Well, most of the 'tap' was caused by the claw protruding from each of his heels. He had skin centuries old, wrinkling and baggy, with nothing covering it (though there was nothing private to cover). Long claws extended outwards from his fingers, skin grown over them in a few places. His black hair was only a few little strands, showing the skin of his head that seemed to fall over his skull in a stretched way. 

His ears were small and pointed, curling inwards unnaturally, and his skin was greyed. The skin of his face was so strangely stretched and hollow that his very skull could practically be seen, as if he had the head of a skeleton, jaw tight and narrowed. His eyes trained themselves on Jeff, small black eyes made present by a white cat's-eye pupil. His chest, claws, and chin were covered in fresh blood. They stared at one another for a moment, Jeff feeling a certain sense of panicky fear that he didn't experience often. It wasn't often that he saw The Rake, much less right after a murder. 

The Rake was the authority of the Rake Household, who stood straight and professionally, looking everyone in the eye. He was older than even Slenderman, though only by about sixty seven years. The Rake held the stare for another few seconds, before smiling a little, showing off his rows of small and sharp teeth that were laced over with blood. "Jeffery." He said in his aged voice, rasped and straightforward. He stated everything he said in a soft manner, as he rarely ever spoke when he didn't feel the need to, but his tone always held a lingering wisdom.

"S-sir." Jeff responded, cursing himself for stuttering. He had no reason to stutter, d**m it! The Rake gave him another smile, this time without showing his teeth, and adjusted his weight onto his another leg. "What is your business here, proxy?" He said, though with his current tone he could have just as easily been saying 'how are you today, child?'. Jeff told himself to relax a bit, which he did, trying to keep a more confident outward look under the authority of another house-keeper. 

"I'm here for a personal kill, sir. I didn't mean to...uh...disturb....I mean, I was just checking out the building..."

"I understand that. Did your kill reside here?"

"No, sir."

"That is good, then, as I'm afraid I would have robbed you of that kill."

"You didn't, sir. My uh- my target is in town."

"Ah. How long are you away this time, Jeffery?"

"Only a few weeks, sir."

"You say such things so easily; how I envy the Slenderman at times. Oh, if you could see this one of mine being sent away. She always questions how long she will have to go."

"...Rouge, sir?"

"I would think not! It is Scarecrow, Jeffery."

"Oh."

"I suppose you have seen Rouge the most often, though. Your estimate stands to reason."

"....."

"...Are you leaving then, Jeffery? To town?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Will you take a vehicle from the lot outside?"

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure to rid yourself of it if you do not intend on wearing gloves."

"Right, sir."

"Then," The Rake turned back to the stairs, "I bid you pleasantries. My regards to the Slenderman." He began walking back up the stairs, the claw of his heel tapping as he did. Jeffery felt an enormous relief, relaxing his shoulders a bit and taking normal breaths of air. He stared at the staircase for a moment, wondering how tense he had seemed, before turning around and walking quickly to the back door. He left and shut it immediately, sighing in relief as soon as the door was closed. Well, at least now he wouldn't have to worry about being spotted by any humans. 

He would just have to get Laureen into the car fast once the got a car packed and running. With this new information, he walked normally into the parking lot, looking around at the seven cars. He looked for an old car with a 'push-pin' lock, as he trained himself to hot-wire and steal that specific type of car. He could break into any of them, but he figured he'd rather not break the window of a car he was about to drive. After looking into windows for a minute or two, he found a car that did indeed have the lock he was looking for. The only problem was the color of the car. 

It was white. Whiter than the white of his hoodie. This wasn't the best color to have when stealing a car, due to it being such a recognizable and somewhat uncommon car color, but it wasn't as though anyone would be filing reports of a missing white car at this building. 'F**k it, I'll take this one.' He thought, and then bent down to his shoe. As skilled as he was with his lock picking tools on house doors and (lately) helicopter doors, he wasn't the best at lock-picking cars. He knew this perfectly well, though he would probably never admit it aloud. 

He unlaced his shoe string, pulling it completely out of his sneaker and standing back upright. He held it out and tied a small slip knot with practiced ease, and looked back to the car. He held the shoelace in one hand, digging into his pocket with the other and pulling out one of the little pieces of metal he used for picking locks. He put that in the same hand as the shoelace, then grabbed the edge of the car door with his other. He managed to get his fingertips under the top of the door and pull it open a bit, then pressing the pick into it to hold it open even more. 

Once that was done, he took the shoelace (which still bore the small noose-like knot) and fed it under the metal of both the pick and the door. He pulled both ends a little tighter (careful not to close the slip knot), and then pulled the shoelace downwards. Watching through the window, he fed the loop made by the knot onto the push-pin lock, and pulled it tightly together. It closed onto the lock, and he pulled upwards. The lock made a click as it opened. "Bingo." He muttered in his little victory, opening the car door and catching the metal lock pick in his hand. 

He sat down in the driver's seat as he undid the slip knot, feeding the shoelace back into his sneaker. The process of getting the string back into his shoe took longer than he would've like to admit, but he eventually had it tied and laced as if it was never touched. "Okay..." He muttered as he looked around the inside of the car. A few coins, a pencil, a lighter, and three paper clips. No keys. "Well, was worth a try." He said to himself, grabbing one of the paper clips and opening the dashboard. Being a bit of a skilled car thief, he found the right wires (that power the right modules) almost instantly. 

He applied power to them by pressing them together with the starter wire and holding them together with the paper clip, then closed the board. He grabbed another paper clip and pressed a pedal to the side of the driver's seat to open the front hood. He got out of the car as the hood opened, and looked around the circuits of the car. Once he found the fuse box he was looking for, he grinned and removed the fuse cover. There were lots of little things plugged into different parts of the fuse box, but he was only looking for the starter relay. 

Once he found it at the bottom right, he unplugged the relay and turned it over in his hand. It had four different pins on it. 'Nice! This'll be easy.' He thought, lucky that the relay only had four pins. He took the paper clip and bent the first section backwards, insisting it into the bottom terminal of what used to hold the starter relay's pin. At first, it did nothing. However, after some wiggling and adjusting of the metal paper clip, the car roared to life as the engine started. His grin grew even bigger and he cheered a 'Yes!' under his breath, taking out the paper clip (as it had already done its job). 

Now all he had to do was get Laureen, get their stuff, and go. He got into the car, closing the door and pressing the gas. He left the parking lot (not correctly, but he didn't care) and drove the car towards the helicopter. Once he was close enough, he spun the car around (again, not a correct way to drive a car) and backed the vehicle up until it was alongside the helicopter. He left enough room for himself to get out, which left the other door much closer to the trees than it might have been. Oh well, he didn't care about it right now. 

He got out of the car and opened the helicopter door, almost as though he were in a rush. Laureen's eyes gained a teal streak to them due to how quickly Jeffery opened the door, but that died almost immediately in the dark blue that adorned them. "Hey, I got'a car. Let's go." He said, grabbing the two blue bags that were now filled to the brim. She stared at him for a long moment as he left the helicopter again to put the bags in the back seat of the car. This very moment felt so unreal, so fabricated, almost as if it were a dream. Not a pleasant dream, but a dream none the less. 

Still, she managed to break herself from whatever was keeping her from moving and stood up as Jeff came back into the helicopter. He seemed to be gathering weapons. He headed back for the car with an armful of a few guns, and the crowbar and nail Jack they had used. Laureen could have sworn she saw a screwdriver or something, too. "Why do we need guns?" She asked as Jeff jumped onto the ground from the edge of the helicopter's floor. He took a moment to look back at her and speak.

"Hey, you wanna go in empty handed? I bet you money those guys have way more guns than we would." He said, then put the guns down on the floor of the back of the car. "And the crowbar?" Laureen asked, a darker tone to her voice once again. She couldn't help but feel a little bit of offense. "Thank me later, let's go." Jeff said sarcastically, gesturing for her to leave the helicopter. She glared at him for a moment, eyes sparking with red in irritation, but stepped out of the helicopter. 

It took her a moment to regain her balance, as the ground was further down than she had anticipated, but Jeff didn't mention it as he went back into the helicopter. "Get into the car." He said, gathering something else from a different crate. She wanted badly to talk back to him, feeling degraded, but she held her tongue. She didn't know why she held her tongue, but something inside her figured that arguing with Jeff just wasn't worth it. She walked over to the passenger side door, the cooler air of the outside world causing her to once again become aware of the scratch on the left side of her lips and the scrape on her elbow. 

As she had estimated, the red spot on her arm had in fact turned into a bruise. She tried to go back to ignoring them, struggling to open the car door without it hitting a tree. The door ended up halfway through a shrub anyway, and a branch of it scraped her a little as she got into the car. It left nothing more than a white line, but she grabbed it anyway. She examined it for a moment, before frowning again and closing the car door. It was moments like this, when alone in only a car, that seemed to bring an instant calm over her. And it did, as she stared out of the window at the now slightly-tinted surroundings, calm her down a little bit. 

Soon enough, Jeff came out of the helicopter with an armful of two comforters and two pillows, putting those onto one of the back seats and finally closing both that car door and the helicopter door. He seemed to take a moment to simply take a particularly long breath, before exhaling and opening the front door of the still-running car. He sat down in the driver's seat, closing the door and adjusting himself before pressing the gas pedal. The car started moving, a bit slower this time, until they were away from the helicopter and crossing over into the pavement. 

Jeff left the entrance of the clearing, driving onto the road in a less-than-graceful manner, and straightening out the car in the correct lane. Once everything else was fine, he drove the car at a faster pace, heading straight into the town of Arcos. Both of them were quiet for a few minutes, Jeff looking at the road while Laureen's attention directed itself from him to the world outside the car window. Her mind wandered, as minds tend to do on drives, and she eventually asked something. "Why the backseat?" She asked, looking to Jeff. He raised a brow. "What?" He answered, partly in confusion, with an unenthusiastic tone.

"The...stuff you got from the helicopter. Why not just put it into the trunk?" Laureen clarified, speaking as though Jeff was stupid. He took a minute to look at her, before directing his gaze back to the empty road. "Easier access. In case we need them." He answered, ignoring Laureen's know-it-all attitude. "In the car?" Lauren asked. "Yeah, in the car. You never know." Jeff replied again. There was another silence that perhaps lasted thirty seconds, before Laureen began to speak again.

"Why do you always sound so mad?" She asked. The question was so random that it nearly caught Jeff off guard, but he dismissed it with rationalizing that Laureen was trying to start a conversation. Not a great conversation, but a conversation anyway. "Maybe because I've had someone aggravating stuck to my side for the past few days." He retorted, resisting the slight urge he had to roll his eyes.

"Maybe I wouldn't seem so aggravating if you weren't so irrational."

"Irrational? You do realize you'd be in jail by now without me?"

"How so? You don't know that the pilot would have told anyone."

"He would have told the company we were coming."

"....."

"Besides, that guy didn't need to be anywhere near people anymore."

"...How can you just talk like that?"

"You don't agree?"

"...You could be lying to me. About the pilot."

".....Look him up sometime, then. You'll see."

"You seem confident in that."

"Because I am."

Another silence, this time longer, perhaps lasting two minutes. It felt a bit uncomfortable, what with all the talking that was done a minute earlier. Eventually, Laureen tried to lighten the subject.

"Malachi used to talk about you all the time, you know?"

"...Yeah?"

"Yeah. He was pretty lonely without you, it seems."

"....."

"...Why'd you leave?"

"...'Cause I didn't want to be there."

"That's not an answer."

"Well, it doesn't have to be."

Another silence. One minute long. This time, Jeff felt as though he should speak before Laureen questioned him again. She suddenly seemed strangely interested in asking him things.

"Well, what about you, then?"

"Me?"

"Why'd you stay at Malachi's?"

"...I had nowhere else to go. Besides, he's a nice person. He made it possible to not be found by police."

"Yeah, but didn't you ever want to leave?"

"...No, I don't think I ever did. I still don't. It's my home now."

"...What about your real home? Never wanted to go back?"

"...More like...it never really existed. My parents...my mother was never home. I barely even knew her."

"....Gotcha. I know- er, knew a few people who had the same thing."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Most of them were worse."

Once again, silence. They both felt it approaching this time, and both allowed it. They spent another minute or so in a more comfortable silence, though both of them felt a small bit of aggravation towards the other. Laureen found herself simply staring at him for a moment, feeling the sting of her eyes changing color. Jeff saw her staring in his direction from the corner of his eye. "What?" He inquired, referring to her stare. "Your hair is really long. Maybe you should cut it." Laureen answered. "Look who's talking." Jeff replied, eyes following Laureen's long brown hair for a moment before returning his attention to the road. 

"I'm a girl; girls usually have long hair."

"Not that long. Besides, tons of girls have short hair."

"Yes, but most guys don't have long hair."

"Most guys, sure."

"...Why do you keep it so long?"

"Do I look like I care enough to cut it?"

"You should."

"I'll let it grow out, thanks."

"Keep that up and people will start mistaking you for a girl."

Jeff paused and then grumbled at the statement, eyes still on the road and hands clenching the steering wheel a bit. He was not to let Laureen get the better of him, especially with that last comment. Jeff let out a very small sigh, and decided to try to stretch their current silence as long as he possibly could. God, if only she wasn't so irritating. Just like he assured himself before,  he knew she would never see things his way. If she did, maybe this entire trip would have been much, much easier to handle. Unfortunately, the silence didn't last very long as Laureen let out a shocked gasp. 

Jeff didn't need to ask what had shocked her, his own disbelief threatening to leave his mouth. Both of them watched as the sky began to darken, and Jeff brought the car to a complete stop as they were swallowed in the darkness. No stars, no moon, and no explanation as to how the sky had changed so rapidly. Both of them sat in shocked silence, Laureen's eyes a glaring tan, orange, and teal color. Jeff was able to collect himself a bit, realizing that this matched a description of what Slenderman had once spoke of. 

He had gathered all his proxies, as he did every time something seemingly paranormal or proxy-related happened outside of their home. What was it he talked about? The sky turning pitch, the road turning to black gravel, everything getting darker, eleven miles...that was all he could remember. He hadn't paid much attention at the time. He looked around to see what had changed, when his eyes fell on a sign standing to the side of the road. More of Slenderman's words began to come back to him as he stared at the rusted, greyed and weathered road sign. 'Mile One' it read. 

"S-s**t..." Jeff muttered, laying his head against the steering wheel. The moment he showed signs of knowing what happened, Laureen turned to him. "Wha- J-Jeff, what the f**k...?!" She stumbled over her words, eyes wide and stance tense. She looked about ready to freak out at any moment, and understandably so. Jeff turned his head to look at her for a moment, before lifting his head and looking out of the back windshield. Nothing. Blackness, without a road or trees or anything at all. He stared at it for a long moment, coming to terms with what was happening.

He sighed, staring for another thirty seconds, watching as dark shadow-like hands began to form, reaching for the car. He reached back and grabbed two handguns, throwing one into Laureen's lap as he adjusted himself back into the driver's seat properly. "Wha- what- why?" Laureen breathed, staring at the gun now on her lap. "...Just in case." Jeff answered, clicking his gun off of safety mode and setting it on his lap. His hands went back to the steering wheel, eyes looking into the review mirror at the silhouetted hands, then back to the road.

"Make a wish."

"Wha- what?!"

And then he pressed the gas pedal to the floor, speeding down the road made of black gravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter is up! Achievement unlocked! XD  
> Well, there was definitely a lot of talking in this one. Plus, the reveal of The Rake being here for the first time. Hopefully my take on him was suitable. He's a centuries-old authority figure, so I tried to make him talk like one. And yes, The Rake has his own household of separate proxies. This will be explained later on.  
> And also, if anyone can name which creepypasta is coming into play at the end, they'll get a cookie! XD  
> Thank you for reading! :-)


	20. The Cursed Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to make a wish, isn't it? A real wish, I mean? Well...

"Laureen, I need you to focus on a wish!" Jeff's voice was loud and demanding, matching the power of the car that rumbled harshly over the unsteady gravel. It shook so heavily, as if threatening to tumble over with both of them inside. Laureen was frantic, unable to peal her eyes from the figures that followed the car through the back windshield. They were horrifying silhouettes; figures that ran and jumped with no body and broke off their own limbs like they were made of smoke. It looked so surreal, so terrifying as they ran without reason towards their car at frightening speed. 

Her hands were the only things keeping her ground to reality, with one clutching at her seat and the other at the curve of the glove compartment. She was so scared, so very scared that she barely heard what Jeff said; she barely even processed that he was speaking to her. "Laureen!" The harsh, world-shattering and demanding call of her name broke the ice that seemed to freeze her into still fear. She looked rapidly over to Jeff, who was focused on getting the car to go as fast as he could. His hands were strong as they clutched the steering wheel, shoulders tense and legs stiff as his foot remained slammed into the gas pedal. 

"Jeff- wha, why- what are those things?!" The words spilled from her mouth as she looked back at the figures, she herself seeming almost incapable of speaking. "Don't look at them, just focus! Get a wish in your mind, and do it now!" Jeff shouted, sounding more frantic now. He kept his eyes on the road, speeding over the road even as the gravel caused them to practically fly out of their seats every five seconds. It was one of those bumps that seemed to push words back into Laureen's throat, which came tumbling from her mouth again.

"What?! Why?! What do you- what do I-" She was quickly cut off. "I don't care what it is, just wish for it! Anything, just f***ing focus!" Jeff yelled, looking over to her momentarily before frantically redirecting his attention to the figures and then back to the road.

"I-I don't-"

"Godd**n it, ANYTHING!"

"B-but I don't- I can't-"

"Laureen, don't f***ing pull this s**t right now!"

"I-I can't! I can't think- I'm not-"

"Christ, Laureen! Just something! Fortune, fame, uh- super powers, a godd**n piece of jewelry, anything!!"

It was only a spilt second that Laureen had to think. The moment he said 'jewelry' she was reminded of the silver ring on her finger. The ring that was made by Malachi. The moment she thought of him, the old man still sitting at home in that cabin, a train of thoughts paraded her. The old man, practically her father, sitting at home in that cabin without any strange and surreal things happening to him. Safe, in their home. Then everything stopped. The car screeched to a halt, throwing them both forward. Laureen caught herself on the dashboard, and Jeff went face-first into the steering wheel.

Neither of them moved for a moment, frozen, nearly out of breath and hearts beating at a painfully fast rate. Eventually, after a minute of just breathing, Laureen had the mind to fall back into her seat. When she did, her eyes came to fall on the drastically changed scenery. The road was a normal, black-pavement road with yellow stripes of stuttering paint down the center. There were trees, lots of rich and tall trees around the unpopulated road. Most of all, the sky. It was dark still, but it was a glittering night sky filled with millions and millions of stars. 

It was more stars than she had ever seen in one sky, each with their own small glow that fell over the darkness brilliantly. It was a sight that could immediately bring anyone into a shocked fascination, and she stared at the sky full of stars just as one might. Jeffery kept his head on the steering wheel, bringing his arms up and laying them on it as well as he let out a long relieved sigh. Both of them sat there silently, and neither could tell how much time had gone by when it dawned on them that they were sitting in silence. 

Laureen's eyes steadily fell from the stars, her irises an intense and sharp mixture of orange, white, and a pale tan. She slowly looked over to Jeff, who still layer forward on the steering wheel. ".....What...was that?" She asked, her heart rate still at a faster rate, though it wasn't pounding so terribly as it was before. It was a nearly a full minute before Jeffery even answered, wallowing in some form of shock and relief for a little bit longer. "...Uhh...yeah, that....that's what happens when you go onto the Eleven Miles without a wish in mind...and with...two people..." He finally replied, seeming to be thinking through some of it himself.

"The...the what? The eleven miles? What...how..." Laureen trailed off, nearly at a whisper, obviously shaken by the events they had just gone through. Jeff paused, but soon answered her with his head remaining downcast on the steering wheel. "The uh...the Elven Miles is something that someone warned me about a while ago...but we shouldn't have been able to run into it..." He sounded a little more inquisitive now, thinking over how they could have possibly encountered the cursed road. For normal mortals, they had to be focusing on a wish and actively seeking out the road before they could even get close to arriving there. 

Not only that, but the rift between the road and the world...the one with black gravel that warped and distorted things, home to many of those shadowed creatures...should not have been available to them. That was only ever seen by one, only one, of the housekeepers who had come upon the Eleven Miles. They hadn't had a particular wish in mind either...and from what Jeffery could remember, they hadn't intentionally come across the road. They had been summoned, as they said. 

They had refused to tell Slenderman any more about the experience though, and therefore the Slender Household had no more information on that particular occurrence. Still, it was simple to draw the conclusion that the same thing had happened to Jeff and Laureen. And to solidify that, Jeff reminded himself that no one had ever successfully made it onto the cursed road with another person in the vehicle. It must be the work of someone summoning them; someone summoning them when they were unprepared, and latching onto whatever slight and shallow wish from either of them that they could. 

That was why they had been exposed to the rift between the 'normal' and the 'cursed'. Or at least, one of them. He had no doubt that there were several loop holes in between the transition to the cursed road. "...W-What is it, exactly? Why shouldn't we have been able to run into it? Why did I have to make a wish? ...Where are we?" Laureen's voice broke into his thoughts, and he took a moment to process everything she had asked before turning his head to look at her. She was obviously scared, confused, shocked, and everything in between that Jeff didn't have the patience to word. 

He paused, arranging all of the answers he had to give in his mind, before speaking. "...Well...first of all, this is a cursed place...someone ripped it out of time a while back and made it their own eleven-mile road." He said, finally moving himself to sit upright, looking up at the car ceiling as he thought over how royally f***ed they were. "Usually, you've got to make a wish when you're driving around in the dark to actually get to it. But...even if one of us was wishing for something, it's uh...never been possible to reach it with two people in the car." He explained.

He thinking through everything that he had ever heard and learned about the cursed Eleven Miles. Laureen simply stared at him for all of thirty seconds, before a small 'huh?' escaped her. She blinked, and snapped herself out of the shocked stupor she'd been in, forming her thoughts into actual words this time. "Wait, so...you mean...this is a curse?" Her tone reflected shock and disbelief, though it wasn't sarcastic or denying. It was closer to amazement, though it was a terrified amazement.

"Uh...yeah, yeah it's a curse..."

"So...you...weren't actually lying before? When you said curses were real?"

"When did I-...oh. You mean at the cabin."

"You were being honest?!"

"I thought I might as well. You wouldn't've believed me anyway...if this never happened."

"Well of course not! B-but...wait, we're really in a 'cursed' place, then? A cursed road?"

"Yeah. Eleven miles long...."

"...Is...is there any way we can leave? Why did we- how did we even-...look, you said we had to be wishing for something, and there had to be only one person in the car. We don't fit either of those, so how are we...here?!"

"..........."

"Jeff?"

"...I...I don't know."

That was a lie. He had a very good idea of why they might have made it to the Eleven Miles without meeting the requirements. But he couldn't tell Laureen any of that, could he? She wasn't even a proxy, and wouldn't be until she accepted the fact that she enjoyed killing and threw away her morals. Maybe...maybe it would be alright to tell her...she would eventually be a proxy, right? After this? No, what was he thinking? Even if he could tell her...it would only make her freak out more. He didn't need that right now.

"....You don't?"

"No, I don't. But....I know that if we try to turn around after already starting it...we're not gonna end up anywhere."

"...What do you mean? We...we can't turn back?"

"...If we do, we'll be stuck for good. Behind us, there's this...road that lasts forever. We'd die before we ever even got close to leaving it."

"...Well, what...what do we do, then?"

"...Well, the only thing we can do after starting the first mile is...to just finish it."

"....I-It's just eleven miles, right? We just have to drive? Then we can go?"

"...Yeah, we just have to drive...but..."

"'But' what..?"

"...It's not that simple. I...I don't know exactly what happens, but it just keeps getting worse every mile..."

"G-getting worse? What keeps getting worse?!"

"...There's...things on the road...and things that happen to everyone who drives down it."

"Things? Jeff, what are you talking about? What things?"

"...Look, there's no way we're avoiding it now. We...we dug ourselves into a s**thole, alright? A-and it's gonna...it's gonna suck, but it won't kill us. It won't kill you if you just...if you just do what I say, okay?"

"Wha- what?"

"I need you to just do what I say. I...I don't need you dying on me, and I don't need you getting us both killed, so just listen. All right?"

"...I...Jeff...."

"...All right?"

"....Okay."

"Good."

Jeff moved to reach behind him and grab something from the backseat, but he paused when he heard a clattering sound. It was the gun he had been keeping on his lap, which fell to the floor. It made Laureen suddenly aware of the one that had fallen onto the side of her seat. Jeff ignored the gun for the moment, grabbing something from the backseat. He sat back down normally a moment later, tossing a blanket into Laureen's lap. He had one for himself too, draping it across his legs and pulling up the hood of his jacket. Laureen looked inquisitively to the cream-colored comforter folded on her lap. 

Now a little more aware of the temperature, she realized that the air had gotten colder ever since they had emerged into this place with starry skies. It wasn't too terribly cold, though. Cold enough for a lightweight jacket perhaps, but not enough for a huge blanket like the one she had been given. "...Why....do we need blankets?" She asked, looking back over to Jeff. He was pressing buttons on the driver's side door to make the doors and windows lock. "It'll get colder when we start driving again." He explained, leaning down and grabbing the gun from the floor of the car. 

He set it back down on his lap, and stared at the road through the windshield of the car. Laureen felt the distinct need to ask more questions, but she wasn't sure what she'd even ask. That is, besides perhaps 'What will be on the road?' and 'Will we make it out alive?'. But she had already somewhat asked those, in a way, hadn't she? And she had gotten an answer. One that barely qualified as an answer, but an answer none the less. She realized suddenly that her breathing had gotten slower, as she was taking deeper breaths and longer exhales. 

She didn't even realize why she was doing this at first, but she figured it was because of something simple. She was scared. Very scared, in fact, of whatever could be down this road. Scared of threatening things, scared of those shadow-like creatures, scared of being hurt. Scared of the new information she had learned of curses being real; she would never view the world the same again. Scared of leaving the world. But before she had any further time to wallow in this, the car began to move. She looked over at Jeff, who was now driving, and realized he had steeled himself enough to begin the 'eleven miles'. 

She said nothing to him, as the trees began to pass behind them, and the road underneath them. It wasn't long before they were going thirty miles per hour, but Jeff never sped up past that. Laureen felt scared, though she wasn't terrified, and couldn't bring herself to move very much. She felt a bit frozen, though the cold wasn't enough to freeze her, frozen in place without any means of speaking or moving. Nothing changed, nothing happened, and she was still high-strung. Understandably so, considering what she was just told about the road. 

Finally, instead of simply staring ahead at the black pavement, she managed to tear her eyes away and direct them towards the stars instead. It was absolutely beautiful; breathtaking, as one might say. But it was unnatural. Unnatural due to this sky being here instead of the early morning sky that hung above them not too long ago. And yet, it was impossible to feel trapped or scared by such a sky. Though it seemed impossible to Laureen for such a star-dotted sky to even exist, she was undeniably captured by it. It, at the very least, relaxed her a little. 

Despite the lovely distraction, her brain was still throwing possibilities and threatening consequences at her. She had no idea what to expect from the road other than what she had already seen, and such images itched at her mind with a lingering disruptiveness. It was not too long, only about two minutes, before Laureen realized there was a new sign on the side of the road. This one looked nothing like the one that was hanging on the road of black gravel and shadowed figures; it was a perfectly normal street sign. It was green, and slightly faded despite looking unaffected by any sort of weather.

The only thing on the sign were two large words in white print: Mile Two. They drove past it. Laureen's eyes followed the sign until it was out of her vision, it being the only other thing she had seen so far and served as a fresh reminder that this road was eleven miles long. She found herself suddenly pondering 'why eleven?', but the question quickly faded as she noticed the air beginning to get colder. The temperature had suddenly dropped further, maybe ten degrees further, and she moved slightly when she realized that she felt very stiff. The cold was uncomfortably chilly, but it wasn't unbearable. 

Still, it made her remember the blanket sitting in her lap. Slowly, she moved her hands to unfold the blanket, though it was hard to snap herself out of this reality of patient ice she had been forming around her. She draped the blanket over her legs and lower torso, similar to what Jeff had done before he had really needed to. With this new movement, Laureen felt that it was easier to panic, but tried to keep herself a bit calm if only for the silent atmosphere she was in. She looked over to Jeff, who was still staring at the road. 

He looked like he might have been in deep thought, though it was a little hard to tell with his disfiguring features. He looked almost as though he was focusing on something, but it was almost impossible to say exactly what he was doing. Laureen turned back to the windshield, immediately met by the stretch of road and the bright star-littered sky. She noticed that, for the first time, the road actually took a smooth turn up ahead. She said nothing about it as Jeff drove around it without a problem, and didn't necessarily feel the need to once the road continued on straight. 

If anything, the turn had made the road seem more familiar and less unnatural. She also noticed that rocks, about the size of a human head, began appearing beside trees and next to the outside of the road. They hadn't been there before; Laureen was certain of it. '...Maybe....maybe this isn't as bad as I think it is. Maybe the things people go through here are just road hazards and street obstacles.' She thought to herself, though that thought was immediately overpowered by the reminder of the shadow-like figures they had crossed paths with before. It was as though the memory was challenging her to make sense of it, which she could not. 

'...Perhaps that's just...the most challenging thing on the road. A-and we got away from them before, so....we'll be fine...' She tried to assure herself again, but it held very little power in the overall effect. Her attention was drawn away from her thoughts when she saw a glimmering string of light from the corner of her eye, and she raised her eyes back to the stars. There was a falling one. It was over soon, just as quick as one might expect, and she stared at the spot it disappeared. It reminded her of the night her mother walked into her room, commenting on her discoveries through the telescope and advising her not to wish on something falling. 

How ironic was it then, that to reach the road which created this sky containing falling stars, you had to have a wish in mind? Although her mother's term had gained a different value over time. Another memory made its way into her mind; her thirteen-year-old self sitting bitterly on the bed in her room. Bitter, angry, muttering the words: 'Fine then, mom. I give up. You said not to wish on something falling, right?'. The meaning had never quite been the same after that. Because her mother, as she had come to face, was something falling. A lost cause. And just as far away as that shooting star. 

Before she could loose herself in these thoughts, her attention was caught by the scenery (which she was staring mindlessly at) outside of the windshield changing slightly. Another smooth turn of road, effortlessly driven down by Jeffery, and then something more eye-catching. A sign. 'Mile Three'. Away from view it went, a bit slowly due to their speed of 30 mph, and the road was normal again. And yet, the sign had made Laureen's shoulders tense up, just from knowing they were a little closer to larger numbers. A barrage of thoughts hit her at once, all including different threats to the car or different human fears. 

What would happen if their car was damaged enough to the point of not being able to drive it? What would happen if the engine simply stopped working? What would happen if their tire went flat? What would happen to them if they had to get out of the car? These thoughts were interrupted by a chill running up her spine, and she instinctively reached down to pull the blanket over her shoulders, arms under it now. Her eyes were caught by a particularly large rock off to the side of the road a little ways in front of them, and followed it as it got closer. 

There was nothing particularly off-setting about it, nothing at all really, and yet it brought with it something of greater concern. Behind the rock was a tree; nothing new about it, leaves and branches falling almost exactly how every other tree's had. But beside the tree, Laureen could have sworn she saw something dark. Darker than the outside world, as the stars were so plentiful that they served as some sort of lighting. It was the silhouette of a human figure. The car continued forwards and the figure was passed, but Laureen's eyes were still wide and she became suddenly more aware of the trees. 

They were scattered everywhere. Behind every other trunk, peaking over a rock, standing openly under the branches, too dark to ever be distinguished for the simple dark outside of the car. The headlights were lighting the close ones up a little as well; they were getting closer. But the darkness of their forms didn't scatter as a shadow would, but was rather its own being and stayed intact, swallowing the light. Laureen could barely bring herself to move or speak, staring shocked at the figures, until the movement of a rather close one moving beside a rock broke the ice that had captured her once again. 

It was so surreal; so strange and terrifying. Her voice came flooding back to her and she immediately and quickly turned her head to the driver. "Jeff! The...there's..." She could feel herself going silent, as though the words to describe the figures didn't exist in her vocabulary. She saw Jeff's eyes move over to his side of the road, staying there for a moment. His expression dropped a bit; he didn't look as grounded as he had before. Still, about three seconds later, his eyes turned back to the road. "Ignore them." He said simply, voice unwavering and tone sounding defaulted.

"...But," Laureen started, and was instantly cut off. "Just ignore them. They won't do anything." Jeff repeated, and a silence fell over them once again. Laureen was left staring wordlessly at him for a few moments. What did he mean 'they won't do anything'? She had seen them chase after their car when they were on the road made of gravel! Why would they suddenly leave them be? A million skeptical, confused, and panicked thoughts flew through her head...but she voiced none of them, eyes wide as she slowly returned her focus to the windshield. 

She was trying very hard not to look out the window; trying not to be afraid enough to stare at the figures' every movement and every trace. She began to notice cracks and little divots in the road, and broken off chunks of pavement. The road had been so smooth and perfect before...when had it changed to this condition? Her wide eyes could only watch as the road seemed to break away more and more as they continued onwards, and the turns began to get more frequent. After only about a minute, the road was nothing but dirt and seemed to be more narrow. 

Jeff had no problem staying to the center of the path, despite having previously been driving on one side of the road. Laureen could feel her heart beating against her chest at this point, catching glances of the unnerving silhouettes out of the corner of her eye. They didn't seem to be getting any further or fewer in number, and they moved differently from the spastic shadows that had reached for their car. No sooner had they made their first turn on this new narrow dirt road did they see another sign. 'Mile Four'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer than I anticpated, but here it finally is! ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆  
> If you'd like to know which Creepypasta I'm using here (and most likely for the next few chapters on Laureen and Jeff's side of the story), it is the RitualPasta 'Eleven Miles'. Feel free to read it or listen to a narration to see what's in store for our main characters! :-)  
> Thank you for reading!


	21. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anyone ever wondered how Jack was effected by his teleportations, he would tell them that it requires almost the same amount of energy it takes to run there. And who was it that said teleportation was an easy process?

There was a quick moment in which nothing could be felt at all. No cold, and no heat. Nothing. Not the slightest feeling of movement, be it from a body or an object. The air left Elise's lungs, and she felt as though every limb she possessed was being pulled away from her. But it was quick; so quick that she was barely even sure she had felt such drastic changes in the first place, it having been over in nearly a second. And then there came a different sort of drastic change. She felt herself collide with something solid, and it nearly had her falling backwards, catching herself with one hand and completely disregarding the rough material she had been holding just a moment ago. 

Little pellets of dust hit her skin as a cloud of black smoke fell thickly around her, but it began to fade soon enough. She could do nothing but catch her breath, realizing that she was very nearly gasping and almost sucking in the dust around her. It was about at the same time she had realized her own gasping that she heard another sound besides herself. It sounded almost like a quiet choking noise, as if someone was struggling to breath. The smoke had very nearly fallen by now, and the first thing she saw nearly made her scream and back away. 

It was the clown, as close to her as he had been when kneeling down to the cage. But this time, he seemed to have fallen to his knees. Elise could only stare with a shriek stuck in her throat as her mind struggled to process the situation, image of the clowns previous sadness completely leaving her to be replaced by terror. Once it had, the scream in her throat suddenly dissipated, and she was left in a state of pure confusion and fear. The clown looked to be struggling, one hand to his chest as he stumbled over his own breath, other holding him up as he aimed his small coughs and chokes to the ground. 

The...ground. Yes, the ground. The ground covered in growing grass, illuminated by the morning sun. The sun? It was then that Elise finally felt it within her power to move, and she quickly scampered back from the monochrome creature in front of her. She was trying to back up as much as she could, feeling suddenly frantic and more panicked as her confusion added to every bad emotion she could have at the time. She couldn't hear anything besides the clown's struggled breathing and her own heartbeat, and it was only when it was beating in her ears did she notice how far she had actually gotten from Jack. 

And then, as if on cue, she felt her hand drop downwards. It suddenly had no place to land, and it took her torso down with it, causing that scream to come rising back up immediately. "AAAHH!" She shrieked as she felt herself fall from whatever platform had been holding her up, only to be suddenly cut off by a force to the back of her head and a tugging power on her ankle. Her head had hit the side of something, but before she could even process what it was or how she had come into contact with it, there was suddenly something else that she was apparently hearing. 

It sounded like...beats. A steady thump, or a series of them, on the ground. It made her open her eyes, ignoring the pain in the back of her head, everything else leaving her immediately when she saw where she was. There was green grass everywhere. Little pockets of trees in between large, open clearings. There were hills along the outer edges of this place, each covered with grass and a few trees of their own. A river ran through a plain of rich, tall grass and exposed some of the dirt underneath it. The water shone brilliantly in the light of the morning sun, which seemed to be hanging perfectly in the distance. 

And the thumping sound she had heard proved to be met with something that was perhaps the most evident. Figures, four-legged figures that ran joyfully back and forth on the plain of green grass; their hooves met the ground with a marvelous 'thump', legs steady and hair flying behind them as they ran undeterred. Horses. There were about four that she could see, three of which were running on one side of the plain separated by the river while the other's head craned downwards to drink from the blue water. They were lovely and well-built, forged from the free rampages of wild animals. 

It was all so beautiful. Absolutely and utterly beautiful. Even in her state of hanging upside-down, it was the most gorgeous thing Elise had ever seen. Her state of utter shock and amazement was slightly broken by the sound of a grunt, then broken more so by the feeling of something wrapping around her stomach. She was then pulled upwards rather harshly and set quickly onto the grass, blood rushing to her head from the action. Jack's arms released her, shrinking back to their normal length and allowing him to collapse onto them once again. 

He wasn't struggling so much with his breathing now, though the shattering pain in his chest was impossible to ignore, simply breathing a bit heavier even as he tried desperately not to take in so much oxygen at a time. He looked over to Elise, who he had just saved from death for the second time that day. How stupid could this human be; she nearly just threw herself from a cliff! He stared at her, no doubt looking tired, eyes and expression reflecting just how stupid he thought she was. He barely had enough energy to form words, though he didn't even know exactly what he would say. 

On his base thoughts, a word tumbled almost breathlessly from his mouth towards the human. "Stupid." He had said, staring at her with his judgmental ice blue eyes. She only blinked, eyes wide and expression showing her state of shocked stupor. Laughing Jack groaned lowly in annoyance, looking back to the ground rather than looking at her aggravating features. But he didn't have enough energy to even sustain an angry emotion, and eventually let himself collapse further as his limbs gave up the task of holding him up. 

He laid there on his stomach, head turned to the side and away from Elise, arms strewn out limply beside him as his legs simply sat straight and uninfluenced behind him. He let out a long exhale, feeling completely drained and about ready for his lungs to give out. Maybe it was not a good idea to make such a long jump through space, after all. It had stolen from him every effort he could have put into such a journey, and the shattering flame in his chest seemed to be that of a runner forced to strain himself to death. He knew that this was the furthest he could go from his original position, and he knew this place would be the furthest from the proxy's minds when looking for him. 

Still, had it really been worth it? He was definitely questioning his decision now. Apparently, his small proclamation of the word 'stupid' had inspired the human to start speaking. "...Wh....Where did you take me?! What was that?!" Elise said loudly from where she sat near the edge of the wide cliff, voice cracking slightly from the strain of not being used towards coherent words for a while. She also seemed rather scared, though less so than she had been when first seeing the clown. Jack groaned, somewhat childishly, in no mood to deal with anything Elise had to offer at the moment.

"Next state over. I jumped." He grumbled lowly, now feeling his head begin to pound from his previous lack of oxygen. Not from his teleportation, as he had been far used to that small moment of vacuum by now, but the absolute state of defeat and unsupported pressure that such a terribly effort-requiring teleportation had left him in. It had his full attention at the moment; it was only by chance that he had decided in a split second to reach after Elise after hearing her scream. He wasn't going to let her foolishly die after just risking so much to keep her alive. 

‘....’ He became suddenly void of thought and most emotion, thinking back to what he had just done. He stared solemnly at a blade of grass standing an inch from his face, feeling absolutely no desire to move. The pain in his chest was dulling, but his body still felt exhausted. As he continued to stare at the grass, new thoughts began emerging in his mind. Why had he really fought for this? He could have ended it easily, couldn't he? By just killing Elise the first time he ever saw her? ‘...Yes, I could have…’ He thought to himself, but more pressuring thoughts seemed to drown it out. 

This wasn't entirely about Elise, and he knew that. It was about him and BEN. In the most recent years, the elf had obtained a new habit of pointing out the acceptable and unacceptable. He had been more aware of rules and restrictions in place after...a different proxy had faced what was considered to be the ultimate consequence. BEN had apparently been a bit closer to the proxy than the rest of them had considered him to be, despite that particular murderer only being a member of the household for barely even a month. Since then, the elf had become a little different than he used to be. 

He was more anxious, and less willing to participate in anything even remotely against restrictions. He was easier to irritate, easier to argue with, and had gotten even worse (if even possible) at lying. No, this ran deeper than simply wanting to keep Elise around for a week or so. The clown knew this...and he could push it to the back of his mind no longer. BEN was one of his oldest friends...he hated watching people change. It had never been easy for Jack to accept it, as he hadn't been raised on the concept. Even with...even with Issac changing so drastically in the past, he hadn't actually been around to see it happen. 

Oh great, now his headache was coming back. Thinking of the past always did that to him. Whenever he tried to think of a time before he was killing, or more specifically before he was colorless, his head began to hurt. He had been different back then, hadn’t he? He had felt different emotions and seen things in a different way than he was ever capable of doing now. There was a small place that had drained that ability from him...a small wooden place, smeared with melted colors on the floor...a horribly small place. “...Why…” A sudden voice interrupted his thoughts, and his eyes widened from their previously half-lidded and dull state.

That...had been Elise speaking. What had she said? What was he just thinking of? He found it impossible to conjure the memory he had just been picking away at, and quickly dropped it altogether as he heard the human work up the will to continue her sentence. “...W-why...did you...um...why didn't you...kill me?” Her small voice barely floated over the air, and immediately after speaking she seemed to regret saying anything. Jack stayed completely silent for a moment. That question was more general than what he was honestly expecting. 

He groaned a little and moved his head to look at the human girl, chin connecting squarely with the ground. “Well, are you offering?” He replied, sarcastic, but it made the girl’s eyes widen nonetheless. He stared at her for a moment, before letting out a small ‘Pff’ in something like a sigh and lifting his head and torso from the ground with his arms. He hardly had any strength left in him, which was surprisingly evident as he slowly moved himself into the place of an Indian-style sitting position. Elise could only watch, frightened, as the clown moved. 

Her first thought was that she had officially screwed herself over, and now the clown was really going to kill her, causing her to back up a little before she remembered that she was nearly right on a ledge of a cliff. Besides that, there was something so different about the way Jack appeared now that made her hesitate to scramble away in another direction. He looked...almost frail, though not ‘powerless’. He had shown himself to be far too dangerous to not be feared at every moment. But despite this, she found recent events suddenly making their way back into her mind; the events of what happened before she had suddenly been transported to an unfamiliar place. 

She could feel her face softening a little, and she found herself staring at the clown with more attention than she ever did previously. He was thin, very thin, and lanky. His hair was unkempt, falling over his eyes at the moment. He sat with a bit of a hunch, arms resting on his knees, suspenders slacking from the lack of strain. She noticed for the first time that Jack wore laceless black shoes that had been obviously worn down near the sole and toe-part, though for some reason most of the dirt seemed to be at his heel. The feathers on his shoulder made his garb seem almost completely like a costume, though it looked a bit too comfortable for that. 

Still, this attention to detail forced Elise to notice a drying, dark, blood-like substance laced over the claws on one of his hands. She didn't know what to do. For a moment, all of her thoughts came piling onto her at once. She found herself thinking over questions that were certainly called for, like ‘What will he do?’ and ‘Why hasn't he killed me?’. But as she was allowed some more time to think, deeper thoughts began to worm their way into her mind. Who was that...person at the carnival? She hadn't paid too much attention to what was being said between the two males, and though she had heard most of it she had barely retained any of it.

The appearance of the other had just been so strange...and he had been floating in the air! What she did remember (which honestly was mainly just tones in their voices) seemed to just suggest that they knew each other on a personal level. But the air around them had turned violent rather quickly. Why had Jack even bothered fighting that person? Didn't he say...he did. He did say that he would kill her after a few days. So why bother fighting to keep her alive, when he could have just killed her and been done with it? Maybe...maybe he hadn't meant it? Maybe it had been a lie? To keep that other person from...going to an authority figure? 

But he certainly seemed to have every intent of killing her before, when he had been taking her to that...horrifying tent. Although he seemed to get a kick from scaring her...he didn't actually kill her. Was there a reason for that? A reason he wanted to keep hidden? Did she honestly have anything of worth that might be the reason for holding her? She reminded herself that this clown was very clearly not human, and most likely didn't have such mundane goals in mind. But that was the problem, for she herself was human. She couldn't understand what the clown might have been thinking, though she could pretend to. 

For about three minutes, the only sound was the distant on-and-off thumping off hooves meeting the ground. A light breeze brushed by them every now and then, and reminded Elise of the fresh air that now filled the wide open space around them. The sun was no longer blocked from her by the old fabric of a tent and the ceiling of a cage, but shine down on her skin with a comfortable warmth. The grass waved slightly to and fro, and if greeting the newcomers on its lovely land. Neither of them felt so at peace as to think of such metaphors, however. They were still, though not frozen, an air of confusion radiating from the human. 

Despite her confusion, the silence granted her enough time to notice little sprouting flowers and free-growing weeds in the grass of the cliff. Jack had noticed such things when he had laid down in the grass, swaddled in the pain that his teleportation had left him in. It was fading now into a dim ache, though he felt a particular sore feeling coming over his limbs. Not only that, but his nose, face, and stomach hurt from his recent fight. His recent fight…..BEN wouldn't go down that easy, would he? 

There was an ever-lingering sadness and anxiousness resting over Jack now, seeming only worsened by every sigh he made. It was a sinking emotion, mixed with a form of sarcasm that he knew was only unearthed in times of denial or regret. He fixed his gaze to his hands for a moment, wrapped in bandages as always. Yes, simply a fashion statement. BEN had asked about it once, a few years ago. ‘Something I picked up.’ Jack had replied, seeming content enough with the answer. BEN never did quite believe that, did he? Jack closed his eyes tightly, as a way of shaking himself from that train of thought.

'Stop talking about him as though he's dead.’ A thought called to him in the back of his mind. His eyes relaxed again, fixed on nothing, looking as though they were telling a rather sad story. Jack had seen BEN’s spirit become more transparent before...but he had never seen it to that extent. There was a part of him, perhaps the greatest part, that truly hoped Slenderman would find the elf and restore him to a normal state. If he wasn't dead. ‘He isn't!’ The voice of a thought screamed to him again, as if trying desperately to convince him of such a thing. 

It was true that he couldn't think of BEN dying so simply, but he didn't know the real amount of defense reduced when he was not possessing his wooden body. He simply knew that it was less, though didn't specifically know how much the amount decreased. Had that truly been enough to kill the elf? He would like to think it was not, despite some complications in their friendship that they had. Still, the feeling he had got no better, only tightening into a knot at his chest. He didn't want to concentrate on it, feeling the distinct want to distract himself. 

He never was good at facing his problems, was he? Though he knew that all efforts of ignoring this would most likely be in vain. Yet, he wanted something else to hold his attention. He didn't want to ‘concentrate’ at all. Eventually, he raised his head up, the movement seeming to at least wake him from his sinking state a little. His eyes met the hazel of the girl’s in form of him and caused them to widen. He found himself wondering what Elise was thinking at this moment, and what she may think of her situation. 

He found himself wondering if the human would ever revert back to being more amusing after what she was put through, despite himself. He found himself wondering what to do with her, now that he had taken her with him. He truly only did that due to her being the center of his argument with BEN. But that was all pushed aside as he looked at her with loose interest, pale blue eyes barely even able to show the tumble of emotion he was pushing away from him. She stared back, unable to waver under his gaze, looking confused and anxious and afraid all at the same time. 

In another situation, it may have been mildly amusing to him to see such a reaction. However, he was hardly in any situation to laugh. Hardly in any state of mind, hardly in any form or shape. He hated it when that happened. “.....Tell me a joke.” He said, voice at a normal speaking volume. Yet, it was gentler than Elise had ever heard it. The human stared back at him as if he had just done something shocking, unable to say anything. Jack raised a brow, still meeting her eyes with an unwavering stare. 

When he did, it seemed Elise finally had the mind to at least try to speak, opening her mouth and loosely forming words despite not making any sound. She stayed like that for a moment, looking dumbstruck, until she managed to pull the necessary voice from her throat. “...U-uh..I...I-I can't…” She said quietly, trying to explain even in the smallest form her inability to think of a joke or even properly emote any sort of amusement currently. Jack stared at her for another few seconds, though it felt like full minutes to Elise. She continually feared that she had said the wrong thing. 

Eventually, the clown spoke again. “...I suppose you don't have a story, either.” He seemed a bit sarcastic. Once again, Elise found that her voice was caught in her throat. Jack leaned back a little and sighed under his breath, finally breaking eye contact and looking out to the land he could see from his place on the cliff. He stared at it, seeming almost sadly reminiscent, and Elise noticed a small bruise beginning to form on his jaw. “...You told me a joke that one day…” Jack said, snapping Elise's attention back to him again. Though it seemed as if he may have been talking to himself. 

“...I remember how it went. But there’s another version of it now, after this, right? The ‘genius’ and the ‘idiot’ joke.” He continued to mumble. He then went silent, staring out at the trees, his emotions never failing to sink him even further into whatever place it pushed him towards. He was such an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is officially up! Hell yeah! ( ^ω^ )  
> I hope you guys like this one; its less action-packed than my recent ones. XD  
> Thank you for reading! :-)


	22. Descent, Show me Madness

No one moved, and no one spoke. Neither could bring themselves to move, as though there were chains keeping them in place. A tense feeling seemed to lay over them once more, espiecally so when met with the clown's short mumbles. Not even the human, who wanted desperately to find some way out of the mess she had found herself in, could bring herself to do anything more than turn her head. Why had it come back to this? The clown had, at the very least, shown a vibe of exhaustion. Now, it seemed to be something more....sinister? No, not sinister. Demented. Twisted. His little whispers to himself increased by the minute, hardly able to be heard save for a few small words. 

Elise figured it would continue like this, and had no idea when such a spell of the clown's would stop. Yet, she still felt anxious and scared, wondering when he would stop or what would change or....or if he'd suddenly change his mind about keeping her alive. But there came a small giggle after a while. It cut through the silence that had nearly extended to be thirty minutes long. The clown’s giggle, sharp and a bit rasped, had suddenly emerged from nowhere, from the smallest and simplest of his whispers. Elise’s attention, which had been drawn to the horses over the ledge of the cliff as to avoid looking at the clown, was immediately placed back on the monochrome being. She could feel her eyes widen as she stared at the giggling maniac, who had his head directed downwards in a way that so covered his eyes with his unbrushed hair. 

Not a sound had come from him until now, or at least, not a loud one; what was there to laugh at? Why was he laughing? Though these questions played in the back of her mind, Elise could only mainly think of Jack’s insanity to blame. Should he so have it. Was it really even questionable at this point? He seemed to have proven himself to be a complete and utter maniac. Elise’s fear boiled down to acknowledging the clown’s crazy and sudden burst of giggles, centering on it and gathering towards that one repeated giggle. She continued to stare at him as he giggled, unable to say anything. Or perhaps she simply didn't have the strength to. This state immediately changed when the clown moved to stand up, and a squeak of fear came from Elise as she backed away from him. 

This time she moved to the left, instead of backing herself into the air again, the mishap replaying in her mind right before she moved. She watched Jack stand up, wobbling just a little, and stopped backing away despite making a considerable distance between them. That one little moment of weakness, a small sign of disbalance from Jack himself, had caused her to come to a halt. She didn't even know why. It couldn't occur to her; there was no reason that should have made her stop moving away. Jack was still powerful, still able to kill her easily, still the biggest threat in her known world. Yet, perhaps she felt a little more control over the situation. She could tell something had drained Jack, practically exhausted him. In that case, perhaps he wouldn't have the motivation to kill her. 

Whatever it was, the feeling compelled her to stay where she was and continue to watch. So she did. She watched as the clown stood, hunched over slightly, his knee seeming to no longer be a problem for him as it previously was. That was not the case, however. Jack, unaware that Elise had even moved an inch, could still feel the ever-present pain in his knee. It was a dulling pain, more of an irritated patch, now that he had allowed himself a bit of time to heal. Or perhaps he had simply gotten used to it. There were more dull pains as well; the pains in his stomach and on his face. His nose still buzzed with a throbbing pain that seemed to alight his sinuses, and his jaw seemed consistently colder than the rest of him with a stinging pain that was made apparent whenever the wind breezed over the bruise there. It was like his usual healing abilities were moving slower than ever. Even his stomach still hurt from BEN’s attack. 

He felt himself giggle again, and took a step forward, keeping his legs a bit apart in order to keep himself stable. His shoulders began to move with the volume of his chuckles and giggles, and he just couldn't get himself to stop laughing. Any time he thought of the fight, the more he thought of BEN, everything...it was....cause for laughter. He took another step forward and childishly tried to stifle his laughter, his giggles still coming from under his breath. He wasn't even laughing due to his mention of BEN anymore. Instead, he simply couldn't stop his flow of laughter. Another step. His giggles only got worse as he looked over the edge of the cliff, out at the trees and then down at the grassy ground. He continued to stare at it as he heard his giggles get lower and quieter, eventually dying down and leaving a smile on his face. 

The clown's actions left Elise very confused, yet she felt the immanent doom that came radiating from him as he took another step forward, extremely close to the edge of the cliff. Her eyes widened again, and she felt her mouth begin to open despite having nothing to say. And then the clown took another step. And fell. There was a silence, a pause; Elise was left shocked. The clown had suddenly been gone from her sight; just like that, he had left the cliff so quickly that it was as if he was never there in the first place. It wasn't long before her mind snapped back into reality (or at least, what was now deemed as reality) and her common sense slapped realization into her mind. Jack would hit the ground. Yes, of course, Jack would hit the ground. Despite realizing this, she could do absolutely nothing. Nor was she certain she wanted to. 

She was frozen in place, not knowing what to do, completely dumbstruck. She couldn't even gauge her own reaction on the matter, mind practically blank and eyes wide. That is, until a burst of black and gray smoke forced her to flinch. An ‘Oof!’ came from the clown as he hit the ground on the cliff, having appeared a few centimeters above it as a consequence for teleporting while falling. He hit the ground on his stomach and arms, the side of his face connecting with his arm that instinctively went out in front of him. He stayed like that for a moment as the dust and smoke settled around him, feeling the pain from the impact in his body. The pain...the pain that left a stinging sensation and the undeniable reminder that he was here. He felt an uncontrollable smile force it’s way onto his face. It tugged at his lips and forced his cheeks up, revealing his sharp teeth. 

He started giggling again, giggling and chuckling, memories of jumping from his ferris wheel at the carnival coming back to him. The cliff was a little higher than the ferris wheel, he could tell. That was the only observation he had for his death-defying plummet that very nearly left him a mess on the ground. He laid there for another minute, chuckling and giggling still, letting everything else leave his mind for just that moment. Elise just stared at him dumbly as the smoke disappeared, completely shocked and completely convinced that Jack was absolutely mad. It took her a moment to even process what had happened, but when she did her brain seemed to practically scream it to every reach of her. Jack had just flung himself off a cliff and appeared in a cloud of smoke back on the surface. It was almost like a magic trick. A terrifying, confusing, shocking magic trick. 

Her mind pieced together what Jack had said earlier with the smoke and dust she had been exposed to when first arriving to the cliff. When they were suddenly unexplainably a full state away from where they use drugs to be. Is this what Jack called ‘jumping’? He ‘jumped’...as in jumped to different places? Like teleporting? Didn't that only exist in works of fiction? Her thoughts swirled in her mind crazily, only increasing her feelings towards Jack's recent act of inexplainable recovery from a fall. She immediately debunked her rapidly increasing panic and confusion by reminding herself that Jack was not human. He didn't abide by human rules. He didn't operate the same as she did, or anyone else that she knew. Maybe there was really something in him that allowed him to teleport. 

Her thoughts were broken as she watched Jack stand up again, his limbs slacking slightly as though they ached, giggling a bit more and only needing two steps to reach the ledge this time. Elise already knew what was about to happen, and her eyes narrowed in confusion as her mind screamed the absurdity of the situation to her. “W-wha-” She said, barely over the volume of a mumble, eyes following Jack instantly as she once again watched him step into the air and disappear over the cliff, giggling. Her brows began to furrow even further in her confusion, waiting for all of seven full seconds before another burst of smoke and dust appeared close to the ledge. This time he was already giggling lightly as he appeared, his giggles hiccupping with the impact, before turning into louder chuckles once he was on the ground. 

This time the side of his face had also hit the ground, though it was the undamaged side. His chuckles got a bit louder, his shoulders and chest moving with them, and his mouth drawn up into a disturbingly genuine wide smile. He closed his eyes tightly as he allowed himself to laugh, and continue laughing even when he nearly ran out of air. He inhaled as his arms moved to come out to his sides and lift him up, his laughter starting up again with the new-found air to support them. His chuckles drawled as he lifted himself up again, as if the stain was trying to get them to die down. But the moment a drawling sigh finished that sting of laughter, another few chuckles came with it. It got worse as he looked over the cliff again, at the grass, chuckles building volume again through his sharp smile, eyes widened in a crazy and slightly obsessed fashion as he gazed at the grass so far below him. 

He stepped off, falling again, the wind picking up around him as he made his descent. He stared at the ground as he continued to fall, the adrenaline of such a thing only seeming to energize him. He laughed and stared through his watering eyes, tearing up due to the wind being forced into them, the air forcing his hair up and weaving itself through the little games in his clothing and bandages. The ground came approaching fast, and something inside of him told him to stay and see the entire fall through. But as he came quite close to the final destination of his fall, he teleported back to the top of the cliff, falling onto the grass there instead. His giggles came back to him and shook his chest and shoulders, and he could feel the crying ache of his body telling him to stop teleporting. 

Still, he could not stop laughing, closing his eyes again as small drops of water began to form at the edges of them. Elise was still sitting up a little ways behind him, completely alert now and still just as confused. At this point, it was just surreal and strange to see Jack doing this. While it frightened her, the other aspects of the action seemed to overpower that. It just looked so weird, so unnatural. So...wrong, for whatever reason. It was as if continuing such a thing would eventually just break her mind, and a strange sort of alarm came with that. It was unnecessary, demented, strange to the eye, yet no amount of wanting it to stop would ever make it so. This time, she felt the need to say something as Jack stood up and took a step forward. She didn't want to watch this again. 

She opened her mouth; “Wait-!”, but Jack did nothing save for stepping over once again and falling from the cliff. He reappeared soon after in a cloud of smoke and dust, hitting the ground with a 'thud'. He allowed himself to laugh once again, completely letting himself go in a mad descent of loud rib-shaking laughter. His chest hurt badly and his limbs ached from all his teleportation, as if they threatened to come apart with any more strain. Elise was past the point of being confused, completely bewildered and utterly lost on absolutely everything Jack was doing, from his crazed jumping off the cliff to laughing about it afterwards. She found herself leaning forward the next time the clown began to lift himself back up, opening her mouth as if to say something. 

Jack could feel his legs nearly collapse under him now as he slowly stood, pain searing through his muscles and almost forcing him back down. A thought struck at the front of his mind as he walked back over to the ledge, wobbling a bit now. ‘I should stop teleporting’ the thought said. And it repeated over and over and over again. It chanted it like a prayer, a desperate plea from whatever sanity he had left. But despite its persistence, Jack couldn’t decide on whether or not to actually cease his teleporting. It wasn't a very strenuous teleportation, as his destination was very close, but his previous jump across the state had obviously been very draining. He could feel himself running out of even more strength...yet, it was a strangely addicting feeling. 

Hah. If someone were to fight him now, they would undoubtedly be able to win. A fight just like the fight with BEN would be more than enough to beat him. The very moment he was reminded of that, he found himself falling once again, a grin stuck to his face. He could hardly even recall taking the last step. This time, in the middle of his fall, he decided to teleport a little sooner. This was mainly due to the wind hurting his eyes, but something in him also felt the need to readily avoid the approaching ground below him sooner than usual. But as he tried to teleport again, he felt the energy zap his fingers as though whatever power allowed him to 'jump' had gone through something similar to a short-circuit. It stung his fingertips and left him powerless.

Instead of feeling alarmed, as he half-expected such a thing to happen anyway, he threw his weight with a grunt and flipped himself around to look up at the top of the cliff. Just as he was getting a bit too close to the end of his fall, he extended his arms as far as they could go to just barely grasp the edge of the cliff above him. As soon as he sunk his nails halfway into the rough dirt, he stiffened his arms and swung himself upwards with a loud grunt of effort, shrinking them as he lifted all his weight in order to make his job easier. The strain in his arms burned like white-hot steal, his chest heaved and ached seemingly in a threat to make his ribs and heart come bursting through the skin. He kept up the effort, knowing it would be harder to pull himself up if he stopped, using all the upper body strength he could muster to throw himself up and back onto the cliff. 

He landed on the dirt and grass there, his back hitting the ground hard and sending a harsh kick to his spine. His head throbbed from the impact, and his ankles had also made a sharp 'thud' with the ground as though something important there had been damaged. He groaned breathlessly in pain, wheezing slightly and hardly able to open his eyes due to the pain ringing through his head. As he laid there simply breathing, the rush of a near-death experience tickled him and sent another small wave of adrenaline through him. His small wheezes devolved into airy chuckles as he realized it was the first time he had truly felt winded in nearly three years. It compared to the sensation he had gotten in a portion of his fight with BEN. '....D*mn it.' A little thought scolded himself for immediately thinking of something related to the elf. To BEN. 

BEN. The name echoed, and compelled him to stand. Compelled him to fall off the cliff once again, and feel the strength deplete from his muscles. This was addicting, the pain clearing his mind for just a few seconds each time and leaving everything absolutely and utterly blank. His arms slowly retracted the extra length that they still carried, kicking a small bit of dirt up with his nails, until they were lying limply above him at their normal length. He opened his eyes and stared up at the sky, his chuckles growing in volume until they were laughs that shook his chest and caused his eyes to tear up. It caused the pain already in his lungs and sore muscles to amplify and block out the echoing name passing through his thoughts. He closed his eyes again as he laughed, only then realizing that they were watering, grin stuck to his face despite having no want to smile. 

A flash of a memory ran through his mind; the last time he could think of that featured his eyes watering as he laughed over something BEN had said. Not so long ago, even, hardly a year. It reminded him of how his eyes had watered before he left the carnival. Before he left....BEN there alone. And with that, it was time to get up again. That name waving through his mind was no longer stifled by the barely-dying pain of his injuries. Jack slowly, ever so slowly, lifted himself upwards with his arms. That is, only to feel them collapse underneath him. He heard an ‘ugghf' sound escape him as he came into contact with the ground once again, it being squeezed from his lungs as his chest made impact. He could have sworn he now heard ringing once again. 

From a small ways away, Elise was watching still with wide eyes and a tense figure. Her hand had overlapped her other, which had been curled into a fist, laying together tightly just above her knees. Was he done? The last time he jumped, he didn't use his extraordinary ability that puzzled Elise so deeply, and left her so horribly discontent. But somehow, his last action was more painful to watch. Most likely because it was more familiar; it was a little closer to being a human way of saving oneself from falling off a cliff. Only a little human, as humans do not have expandable arms or apparent supernatural strength, yet that spark of familiar-seen pain from the clown’s impact with the ground was enough to cause her to feel a new emotion. 

It was impossible tell if the emotion rising in her now was sympathy or something different, or perhaps it was just shock, because the alarm she had been feeling still clouded her mind with the sense of the irrational and impossible happening right before her. The clown’s laughs were enough to send anyone into chills, even more so when they had been so loud. He sounded crazy, to the very root of the word. Absolutely insane. He probably was. Didn’t the definition of insanity itself state that it was the action of repeatedly doing something exactly the same and expecting a different result? What was Jack trying to accomplish by throwing himself from the cliff over and over again? The clown’s laughter hiccuped as he attempted to lift himself up again, his arms shaking now as he did. 

He slowly lifted himself further, giving a groan that nearly sounded like that of defeat, though he successful this time in sitting upright. Jack kept his head down at an angle which caused Elise to only be able to see his grin. His terrifying, inhuman grin. There was no hint of innocence to this smile, no genuine emotion, but instead it echoed the aura of a smile that hid from the world a deep and shattered emotion. Jack lifted his arm in front of him and began using it to assist him in lifting him onto his feet, shifting his legs beneath him and starting to stand. His arm plainly shook near his wrist and elbow, but he didn't seem to be noticing. He didn't seem to be noticing anything at all. 

He made it onto his feet with a nearly rag doll-like motion, one leg lifting him up and the other supporting his weight while his shoulders and arms went limp beside him. And just like that, he was turning around to face the edge of the cliff. There was a tense autmosphere now, as Jack stared at the cliff's edge. His body screaming to him. His thoughts both tearing him away and urging him to go forward. He knew he wouldn't be able to teleport. He knew he didn't have the strength to lift himself up this time. The grin stuck to his face twitched slightly, and opened a little to make a silent long exhale. He gave a few more chuckles, nearly breathless chuckles, and a demented little giggle. He then made only one step forward towards the edge, but that was all it took to finally force the word trapped in Elise’s throat out of her mouth. 

"Stop!” She very nearly screamed it, surprising herself with the urgency and volume her tone carried. Had that really been her own voice? It sounded so unlike her in the moment. Never the less, it caused Jack to halt his movements. His laughter, which had already been dimmed to a giggle, now completely went quiet. His gaze, which had previously been fixed to the edge of the cliff, suddenly snapped up with Elise's voice and stared at the sky and trees he could see past the cliff. His grin....his grin dropped. He felt his face relax and settle into a small frown, and all at once everything seemed to stop. There was silence from Jack, and a bolt of doom and anxiety struck through Elise. Her eyes widened and her body tensed, waiting for some form of death that was sure to come upon her now. 

This was it. This is when he would kill her. When he had evidently completely lost himself to whatever it was he was doing in his crazed repetition, and Elise had interrupted it. She could practically feel Jack's claws striking into her, or his arm wrap around her throat to strangle her or rip her apart, then throwing whatever was left of her off the cliff. But Jack didn't move. They were silent and still, both seeming completely and utterly lost now. Jack had been suddenly reminded of Elise’s presence, and although her presence did not matter much, it was enough to snap him into a slightly calmer state of mind. He had indeed forgotten she even existed, and her being there with him came as a slight shock. 

He had never been around anyone when he did something like this. Something which he only now, when what little rationality and sanity he possessed awoke again, realized to be very self destructive and would have possibly killed him. No one had ever seen him. No one. He hardly ever did such things, such harming things to himself like this, but he had always been completely and utterly alone for those few times. The reminder of that, and that only, made him hesitate. That hesitation stretched on into a complete stop, as if Elise's words had the power to freeze one moment in time forever, as the silence between them lingered on. It was a dark and strange silence for both of them, each contemplating their own problems and concerns in their own way, though the human's seemed much more urgent when compared. 

Elise held her breath for a while, still waiting for some sort of attack, before she eventually noticed her own lightheaded-ness and gave a small and quiet inhale. Her breaths were long and silent, eyes wide still as she stared at the clown's back from her position on the ground, heart pounding in her chest and threatening to break and kill her if the maniac in front of her didn't do the job first. Yet nothing moved. She swore there was no thumping of hooves on the ground below them, no rustling of the tree's leaves, not even a slight whistle of the wind. How was it that the clown was always able to bring about this terrible atmosphere? No, Elise knew why; it was due to his appearance and his ever-confusing actions, quite obviously. 

Yet, the buzzing confusion remaining at the center of her mind still found time to rise the question once again. With that question came more inquiries of different kinds, such as questioning what Jack actually was in the way of race and species. The fear of death lingered in the shadows of her thoughts, ever-present, yet less alert now that Jack hadn't taken action. And the clown still did not move. He stood there, staring off into the distance beyond the cliff, not making a sound. And so, as if under a spell, Elise found herself also unable to move or speak. Even more so, unable to produce any sound at all. She didn't move her hands which sat in her lap on her skirt, she didn't feel the grass beneath her, she didn't let her shoes touch in fear of their soles rubbing together. Nothing at all. 

It was impossible to tell how much time had gone by, be it ten minutes or an hour, when something finally broke the stillness that they had created. It wasn't what Elise expected, of course. No quick demise, no slashing or bashing or strangling. Instead, something more simple and even further unpredicted by her. Jack fell over, on his back, and went limp. Elise made a loud and quick scream as Jack hit the ground, instantly bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. She stared wide-eyed at the clown, who wore no smile and gave no laughter. His eyes were closed, hair strewn about, bruises forming in a few places. His face was at peace, asleep, without any emotion to show besides the content caused by a release from the world he was in at the moment. 

Elise stared for a long time, stared at the clown and at his face, half expecting his eyes to fly open at any moment and his terrifying smile to appear. But no matter how long she waited, nothing happened. Elise's body relaxed slightly, eyes never leaving the clown as she backed up just a little. Was he dead? Was it even possible for Jack to die? It hadn't even occurred to Elise that the clown might die right in front of her. Jack's death only ever crossed her mind when he first plummeted from the cliff. Elise's train of thought was broken as she noticed the slight rise and fall of the clown's stomach as the breath passsed through him, controlled by his diaphragm in the most natural form of breathing. He was asleep. 

The information reached her, yet she had no idea what to do with it. Should she kill him now, before he could kill her? But there was nothing here to use, and she still wasn't sure Jack was even mortal. Besides, she would never be able to leave this place without him. She had no idea where she was. She gave a light exhale, in time with Jack's own breathing. Her inhale came in time with the clown's slow breath too, and in turn made her breathing slower. She realized how exhausted she was now, going through so much in so little time and being stuck in the same set of emotions for so long. She did nothing with that information, though, despite her body now feeling heavy and sleep-deprived. 

She simply sat there, feeling as though she should do something- anything at all- while she had the opportunity under the advantage of the clown's unconsciousness. However, she didn't know what to do with the time she had. So she tried to think about it as she sat there, staring at the clown to make sure she knew if he awoke. She thought about what to do as she felt her slow breathing pass through her nose, throat, and lungs. She thought about it, despite being unfocused, as she listened to the distant beating of hooves and whistling of little breezes. Those sounds had finally returned to the world, it seemed. Or had she simply returned to reality?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, readers. I know I've been gone for a while, so I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I got the urge to write a chapter of Silver Crowbar, so I did. (^_^)
> 
> Please enjoy. This is one I've been working on off and on for a little while, but never actually posted. Let me know what you think of it in the comments, please! Some feedback on this one would be most helpful. ( ´ ▽ ` )
> 
> Thank you for reading. :-)


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